Nebula
by MatsuMama
Summary: The first night of exile is always the hardest. UraYorui, too many cameos to name. Expect massive spoilers for the Pendulum arc and anything else in the manga. Rated T for fluff, language and angst.
1. Prologue: The First Night

It was already night time, which was probably for the best. The less he could see, the fewer things to take in right now, the better. He was already consumed to the point of madness, it would not do to have something small, like a street lamp or ambling human, overwhelm him by its very existence.

Everything was different here. The air. The sounds, smells. The energy in the atmosphere was absent to the point of being unnerving. He finally understood why humans felt alone most of the time. Who wouldn't, without the thrum and pulse of living spirit energy filling their senses? He didn't know how humans survived this vast separateness.

He would learn, now. Something in him balked; as much as he thrived on new discoveries, he didn't know how to carry the weight of this one without it crushing him.

Coming across knowledge that should never have been discovered was how he got here in the first place. Fitting, he supposed. Back during the mad circus that had led to this point, hell his entire existence for that matter, he had never quite understood why new information produced such a frightened, frenetic reaction in people. He'd never found new knowledge to be anything other than deeply thrilling, a high his brilliant mind couldn't live without. Standing here as he was, now, in this place, as he fought to keep his thoughts from crashing together into insanity, he finally understood.

A distant, crisp part of his brain noted the searing difference between knowledge and understanding, and which one held the greater power.

His struggle was not going unnoticed. Seeing as she was never given to inane babbling _ever_, for any reason, her restless padding around the room belied her knowledge on some deep level that he needed a distraction right now to help keep this moment from conquering him.

"It's not that bad, really." That was a pure lie, but he let her tell it anyway. She was only trying to help. "With a little work, it's a very usable space. We can do a lot with this." She made another round of the room, running her fingers over the thin walls, the patchy furniture. "I hear humans have an aversion to delving underground, so that opens up lots of possibilities. We could make another…." She trailed off. It was so rare that she sounded awkward that he almost smiled. Almost.

It was his turn to make an effort. "Yes," he said softly, moderately impressed that his voice came out so steady. "Lots of possibilities." He couldn't continue; speaking meant thinking, and he was trying very hard not to do the latter.

She noticed. "Kisuke," she said, letting that warm steel he loved so much color her tone. "This world is as vast as the one we grew up in, and just as full of possibilities. Even if they are different ones." She was done being banal and he had to admit to himself that he was grateful. If there was one passion they shared, and they shared many, it was for truth ruthlessly acknowledged and accepted.

He nodded, speech still too dangerous at the moment. So was looking into the amber eyes he could feel boring into his head. Accepting truth was one thing, allowing a reaction to it, no matter how understandable, was another and far less acceptable. It simply wasn't logical. When his gaze remained averted, she slowly walked up to him. He tried very hard to ignore that it was her scent, her warmth that alerted him to her approach in the darkness, and not the shift in a reiatsu he could no longer feel. Smell and heat, but not sound. Never sound. His feline nymph would never be so careless.

Her hand on his foreign skin nearly undid him, but he shifted quickly to a stark analysis of the exact responsiveness of the pseudo-body, the one invention of his that had been ingeniously smuggled out with him. Her touch felt just right, the way it always did, but that shouldn't have surprised him. He never made anything that wasn't excellently crafted and this gigai was the finest ever made, replete with upgrades and specifications unique to him and carefully chosen to harbor more than a few surprises. Anyone else would not have even noticed they were in a fake body.

That it felt like a coffin around his fiercely burning soul was just another observation to be filed away.

"I'll visit as soon as I can, maybe tomorrow. I can bring you a few things from ho-" She broke off, moving away to hide her slip and heading towards the door. "I will bring some things to make you more comfortable."

"No," he replied, the soft agony in the word stopping her at the exit. He waited a minute, until he had gotten the croak out of his voice, before speaking again. Softer, but just as resolute. "No." He lifted his head, then, and looked at her.

His eyes were the same color. He knew they were, he'd designed them himself. He also knew that that would be small consolation to her right now, that meeting her gaze would show her everything going on inside him and burden her with the despair he was trying so hard to keep at bay. But that couldn't be helped. He couldn't stay here without filling his vision with her before she left. Their eyes locked, and he bore the flash of torment that crossed her face, the expression quickly controlled. Anger settled in, burying the pain.

"This will pass, Kisuke," she said firmly. "This is madness, and sooner or later they will see it."

Perhaps, but he didn't say that. He didn't need to. She knew her voice sounded thin, and with little else to do she shifted, dropping into the small black form she preferred in this world. With a quiet, if halting, purr, she disappeared into the shadows.

Leaving him alone in the dark. It was the kindest thing she could have done for him, given the circumstances.

* * *

He would not cry. That was just not an option. The gigai performed admirably; though the eyes burned and even moistened once in a while, tears did not fall. He discovered that even a pseudo jaw could hurt if it was clenched too long. Not that it had to; he had infinite control over this body, what it could or could not do, what it did or did not feel. But the throbbing helped focus him, and the feelings such pain was distracting him from were the ones he didn't have the option of controlling. When the raw ache wasn't enough and the trembling started in his limbs, he finally moved, drifting through the tiny, run-down shack and heading for the front door. His human form was confining enough, and he wanted to get outside and breathe for a moment.

He didn't know how long he stood on the porch, didn't even notice he was peering intently at the stars as if his stare alone could peel away the dimensional layers between this world and the other, when quiet words broke him out of his reverie.

"Funny meeting you here."

He'd been expecting the visitor, so he wasn't surprised. Despite everything, Kisuke felt a tiny smile ghosting his lips. "You found me pretty quickly. I'm impressed; this gigai was designed to be utterly untraceable. Unless you had help." Finally tearing his eyes from the heavens he could no longer call home, he managed a small, wry grin. "A little bird told you, perhaps?"

"She can do that, too?" Mock surprise covered Isshin's face before it softened into quiet amusement. "You know she wouldn't have left you here without someone to keep an eye on you."

"She didn't have a choice, my friend." Kisuke's voice was barely audible, but the mirth fading from the energy around them told him that he'd been heard.

"Bah. Choice is overrated; no one can see the future, or control consequences." Isshin's voice took on a sadly wry edge, with just a hint of absolution. "And even geniuses make mistakes." Isshin joined him on the porch, hands in his pockets, and they both stared at the burning points of light above them for a while. A shift, a quiet scraping sound, and presently smoke was drifting lazily in front of them. Long moments passed in silence, broken only by the quiet puffing of Isshin's cigarette and the random sounds of a human world asleep. "You'll be okay. The first night is the hardest."

Kisuke absorbed that information, hoping to high heaven it was even slightly true. "Are you trying to tell me it gets easier?" he mused softly.

"No," Isshin replied. "I wouldn't say that." Another languid puff. "But it does get _better_. Sooner or later, it will get better." The pinpoint of light that was the tip of his cigarette dropped to the ground like a tiny falling star, only to disappear completely to the scuff of Isshin's boot. "We'll find you a nice woman, maybe some ankle-biters to keep things interesting." Isshin shoved his hands in his pockets, stared to amble off the porch. "It helps."

As if any human woman stood a chance at catching his eye. That part of him had been claimed centuries ago, and Isshin damn well knew that. Kids, though...he'd always had a fondness for them, had hoped to have some of his own one day, despite the vast unlikelihood of true-births in the afterworld. He wondered if a gigai could be made that could support a burgeoning human life…. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun." He forced a tiny smile to his face, noticing as Kurosaki started crossing the courtyard that the barest hint of light was beginning to emerge. Dawn was approaching. "Isshin."

The man stopped, turning as the sky behind him started to lighten to the deepest of blues. "Hm?"

"Thank you."

The man just smiled, turned and walked away, whistling an overly-cheerful tune as he disappeared around the corner.

Leaving Kisuke standing alone on the run-down porch of the dreary shanty, staring into the empty courtyard as the human world slowly came to life around him. When the sun finally broke over the tops of the buildings around him, he moved back inside, away from the encroaching heat of the day. Padding into the middle of the largest room, he paused, considering the floor thoughtfully. The shoddy planking came up easily enough, and underneath was nothing more than cool, hard-packed dirt, untouched for however long the building had stood over it. He picked at the clay, prying up a few small clumps and crumbling them between his fingers.

_Lots of possibilities..._

Maybe Isshin was right, maybe this would get better with time. Or Yoruichi; it was possible, albeit infinitely unlikely, that this would pass. Either way, he was here now, and what must be must be dealt with. Standing around and doing nothing was pointless, and if there was one thing Urahara Kisuke had ever failed at completely it was self-pity.

And so he stood, wondering where he could find tools and noting absently that if this new world was going to be so hot he would need to get himself a hat, and began working out contingency plans for his new life.

_Geniuses make mistakes_...he thought ruefully, _but at least they are not above redemption..._


	2. Prologue 2

She came back the next day, just as she promised.

He was surprised to find himself feeling awkward, an experience oddly reminiscent of the moment in his youth when he, an unparalleled genius sailing through the Academy, had first seen those amber eyes flashing in his direction across the school courtyard. Of course, back then he had been much better at disregarding his hesitation. Cold, quivery fingers had shot through his stomach at the glance but he'd stopped in his tracks, pivoted on his heel and marched right up to her. Ignoring the disdainful looks on her noble friend's faces and the haughty one on her own, he had projected nothing but cool confidence as he'd introduced himself with a flourish. Her laughter rippling across his skin had sung in his veins as nothing before encountered in his afterlife, and from that moment on he had never turned back.

She'd laughed again when, years later, he'd told her that that was one of the most terrifying moments of his life. At the time of his confession, she'd refused to believe that it was fear that had propelled him to make such a memorable first impression. Fear and the ever-present, burning need to _see what would happen_. An experiment, she'd called it then, not inaccurately. He'd laughed too, and to this day would quietly tell himself that out of all his experiments over the centuries, that one had been by far his most successful.

She was laughing at him now, watching him fidget, allowing him to refuse to meet her gaze. She let him ramble on about the neighbors, the air quality, the lumpy discomfort of his pallet, all the while a small smile played across her lips. When he finally tried to talk about the dew-point index, her expression shifted into irritated and she simply growled and pounced on him.

In human form, no less, which was only ever an invitation to one delicious activity.

Their lovemaking was another surprise to him; bittersweet and frenetic, he found himself trying to lose himself in her sweet, strong warmth in a somewhat desperate manner that was uncharacteristic of him. He _needed_ her in a way that they'd never encountered before, a way that should not have surprised them given the circumstances but still caught both of them a bit off-guard. For her part, she was more comforting than usual, matching his energetic intensity with less of her usual ferocity and more heart-rending understanding. At some point he allowed himself a small amount of self-congratulation as his upgraded gigai easily outpaced her legendarily impressive stamina, leaving her laughing and begging for mercy. His victory was short-lived, as he knew it would be; she _hated_ being defeated, and once she'd caught her breath she set herself going about a vigorous and immensely enjoyable revenge. At least it was only their cries they had to muffle; damping down reiatsu was something they'd always had to be mindful of, _before_, and that being moot now left them energy for far more interesting activities.

When they finally rested, the moon was high and he could tell without opening his eyes that she was regarding him intently by its pale light. Lithe fingers toyed damp strands of hair off his forehead.

She spoke quietly. "You will do well here."

He let a goofy smile paint his face, one that he knew she found both endearing and irritating. She never did like him playing the fool, although she had been forced to admit on many occasions that it had proven useful.

"Are you saying that the real world suits me?" He didn't bother blocking the sharp jab to his ribs; not because he couldn't have, but because she wouldn't have stopped trying until she'd landed a blow and it was easier to just let her do as she liked. She'd long ago earned the right to hurt him when it suited her.

"No," she intoned solemnly as he grunted, chuckling painfully. "Of course not. But being exiled is a problem." Her golden eyes were molten as he met her gaze. "And you're never more alive than when you have a problem to solve."

At that, he had nothing more to say, and before long their cries tore the velvety night air once again.

The next day they started digging in the cool, damp earth beneath the shanty.


	3. First Impressions

_Omake: Real World I_

"What in the name of Both Worlds are you two doing??"

Yoruichi didn't even break stride at the scandalized inquiry but Kisuke paused, glancing up through the jagged edges of broken floorboards at Isshin's bewildered frown. He threw a mud-streaked grin up at his old friend as he wiped a layer of grime and sweat off his forehead and told himself, once again, to get a hat if he was going to live in such a humid climate.

"Digging," Kisuke replied gustily. He was rewarded by a lofty grimace. "Grab a shovel and give us a hand!"

"Bah, forget it – _I'm_ still employed, ya know. I can't be playing in the dirt all day." Isshin's visage disappeared, but Kisuke's grin deepened when he didn't hear angry footsteps stomping away. Picking up his shovel, he got back to work and wasn't the least bit surprised when, after several moments had passed, a large figure came sailing through the floor of his bungalow to land in a blustery heap next to him. Grabbing a shovel, Isshin set to with a manic grin on his face. Dirt started flying with incalculable speed.

"So," Isshin grunted, that not-quite-human look of insane amusement playing across his angled features, "what are we digging?"

Kisuke and Yoruichi shared a small secret smile. "You'll see."

Hours and hours later, a much grumpier Kurosaki threw his shovel down in disgust.

"_Bah_. This is _hell_ to do without kido."

The other two wholeheartedly agreed.

* * *

"_Feel free to enter, My Lady Shihouin_."

Kisuke had known for quite some time now that the lovely young noblewoman was hovering outside the door of the Academy laboratory into which he'd interred himself, but had waited until now to speak. As was his nature - observe first, interact second. Only after one had established a baseline set of information from which to proceed. And while he still did not understand fully her motivations for observing him so secretly, he was most eager to continue the experiment that had begun months ago in the middle of a crowded courtyard of the Academy...

_He was halfway through his bow when he realized that it would have been far flashier if he'd had a hat to tip. Noted for later._

_"My Lady, it is a pleasure to make your singular acquaintance." Exuding nothing but calm confidence, he'd straightened up and looked her right in the eye. "I am Urahara Kisuke."_

_The braying mockery of her friends could not quite drown out the musical tinkle of her own laughter, just as her practiced haughtiness could not totally hide the hint of intrigue in her intoxicatingly slanted eyes. _

_"Yes, you certainly are, aren't you?" she'd purred, her rich voice sending a shiver across his skin. Her friends' laughter had escalated as they'd turned_ en mass _and glided away in an elegant display of feminine amusement, doing their very best to humiliate him thoroughly. Kisuke had stood still and watched them leave, a small smile on his face, determined not to waver until they'd disappeared from view. Which they did soon enough, rounding a building in a mirthful tangle...but as they did the morning sun offered him a golden glint as one pair of eyes flickered, at the last moment, in his direction..._

Since then Kisuke had seen her many times across classrooms or student assemblies but she had never even glanced his way. So to have her now watching him so discreetly from the shadows filled him with amusement and a certain satisfaction that he had difficulty quelling. For a while he had managed to hide his tiny smile at her hesitation; he knew all too well her normal habit of waltzing into a room as if she owned it, filling the enclosure with her noble preeminence, and he wondered at her reluctance to do so now.

But as the silence had stretched for hours and her surveillance had continued, he'd stopped trying to keep the curve from his lips. Kisuke had wanted to see if his amusement would goad her into presenting herself.

It had not. _Interesting_.

But the experiment he was currently conducting in the lab was nearly complete and still she had neither retreated nor advanced, so in the name of eliciting a potentially informative reaction, he had finally offered her the invitation to enter.

A long moment passed before she huffed into the room. She was miffed, the pink in her cheeks indicating possible embarrassment at being called out - _summoned_ as it were_,_ though he'd been careful to use the proper address for a young noble. Once inside the room, however, her high-handed demeanor seemed to abandon her, seeing as he did not turn to greet her and her grand entrance went thoroughly unnoticed. Watching out of the corner of his eye, Kisuke stifled another grin; he doubted this lovely minx had ever in her entire life been ignored.

She shifted awkwardly for a moment, finally crossing her arms and glaring at his back. He continued to gaze intently at his glowing readout screen. Waiting.

"What are you doing?" Yoruichi Shihouin huffed after another pronounced silence. Her voice was angry, ruffled. And hidden somewhere deep within the color of the tone was a begrudging curiosity.

"I'm testing the tensile strength of bonded spirit particles in application to corporeal matter," he replied, twisting a dial with slender, practiced fingers.

Golden eyes flew towards the motion as her energy shifted. She seemed more than slightly surprised that he had answered her so openly. When she glanced back up at the screen, her gaze was brighter, her demeanor radiating curiosity. She took a few steps closer.

"What's that for?"

He hid a grin at the sharp intelligence in her voice, noting that she had not asked him to explain _what_ he was doing, but only _why_.

_Very interesting_. He smiled faintly, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"I overheard some Seats complaining about the limitations of operating in the Real World. I'm inventing something to fix that."

"Oh." It was an enigmatic enough reply; he filed it away for future evaluation. "Which class is that for?"

"It's not for a class," he replied, fiddling with a few more controls and grimacing slightly at the altered readouts.

"So..." She struggled with incredulity. "You're doing that for _fun_?"

He shrugged self-depreciatingly, letting his grin finally break free. "Sort of. Originally, I was just trying to satisfy my own curiosity but if the results turn out the way I think they will, I will petition an audience with the Captain Commander and present my design for implementation. It's going to revolutionize the way we patrol the Real World!" Practically tripping over his words in excitement, he briefly explained his concept of a 'gigai'.

She gaped at him in a manner very unlike a noble. "But...you're just a _student_! And you're going to completely overhaul inter-dimensional interactions? All by yourself?!" A note of contempt crawled into her voice and her glare heated.

"According to the empirical data...yes," he responded affably. "Think about it – right now shinigami are so _limited_ in what they can do in the Real World. Aside from spirit pressure on a few particularly sensitive mortals, we're practically ineffectual! If we could do _better_-."

"You mean _you_ can do better." She was downright angry now.

"Sure." He replied coolly. He didn't understand at the time the arrogance he was exuding, and it would be while yet before he learned why it would rifle her noble-bred senses so badly. "This will work, I know it! Anything created can be created to do anything-"

Her anger simmered into burning ice. Laced with curiosity, and fascination. "So...you _are_ a genius."

He turned then and looked at her. Her eyes were mesmerizing, all fire and sparkle and ferocity, couched in delicate lines and impossibly large lashes. And their _color_...that amber hue threatened to warm him inside and out if he gazed too long. But she was judging him, and in a gesture of invitation he let her into his open gaze as much as he ever let anyone, maybe even a hint more. He couldn't tell what she discovered in his sleet-grey orbs, but finally she sniffed.

"For a genius, you're awfully proud."

His gaze snapped into a razor-sharp edge. "For a noble, you're awfully specious."

She stilled in a way that he would learn over the years indicated shock. He learned right then and there what she looked like when she was hurt.

Her face darkened, contorting. "How _dare you_!? You have _no_ right to act as if you know the _least_ thing about me!"

He wondered if he'd made a tactical error pushing so hard, so quickly. Impossible to tell at the moment, but as he could not establish exactly what had caused so disproportionate an outburst, he saw no need to apologize. Instead, he offered her an appropriately deep bow. "My Lady..."

She stormed out without another word, as if the honorific only galled her further.

He sat for a while gazing at the empty doorway through which she had vanished, lit only by the now-forgotten monitor, replaying the scene in his mind over and over. His descriptive had wounded her deeply, yet the results yielded had been interesting. He would find himself mulling over them for weeks to come.

_How fascinating_...

Undeterred, he turned back to his monitors and resumed tweaking the controls, unable to control the smile that played across his features.


	4. Misinterpreted

_Omake: Real World II_

It was week before she returned. Yoruichi easily justified the minor abandonment by assuring herself that Kisuke could hardly blame her - it had taken nearly that long for her blisters to heal, and she could very well imagine he wasn't much better off. Hell, the last time she had seen him he was still trying to get the dirt out from under his nails; she didn't even want to _think_ about how long it had taken her to get her coat to shine again….

Stifling her guilt nonetheless, she slipped silently into his earthly house to find him sitting at a small table in the back room, absorbed in yet another project. For a moment she paused in the doorway; how many decades of memories did she have of just this scene, that lanky frame bent intensely over his latest obsession? The thought put a sparkle in her eyes as she nimbly leapt up onto the table over which he was hunched, padding across its cluttered surface on her dainty black feet.

"What are you inventing now?" The gravelly sound of human words pushing past animal vocal chords did little to hide her curious amusement.

"Birth certificate," he replied, carefully placing precise kanji on a small document covered in official insignias. "They don't rent equipment to dead people, you know."

"_Equipment_?" she returned energetically, lashing her tail in surprise. "What on Earth are you renting?"

"You'll see."

Her tail whipped about even more poignantly when, weeks later, the boring equipment was delivered – a new-fangled invention for the 1920's. She looked from the enormous digging machine to the small house with its tiny hole in the flooring, and back again. She had plenty of experience in her little cat form and easily managed an expression laden with smug irony.

"How are you going to get it under the house?" she purred sweetly.

He was already chewing on his lower lip, face twisted in deep thought.

"I'm working on that…."

* * *

_Shihouin Yoruichi, teenage princess and heir-apparent of one of the oldest and most renowned of the Great Noble houses, let out a vicious string of fluently executed swear words._

Her mother calmly fielded the tirade, allowing little more reaction than a slightly raised eyebrow. As the obscenities wound down and her temperamental daughter lapsed into furious silence, the dowager spoke drolly.

"Nonetheless, you will accept the assistance," she commanded. "In the future, if you do not wish to endure the shame of tutoring, you will endeavor to spend less time with your friends and more time pursuing the education which you so ardently insisted upon receiving. You _chose_ this path, Yoruichi - you will not be allowed to fail in it." Turning her regal back on her fuming offspring, the noblewoman glided towards the garden door, accompanying her exit with her final thoughts. "Honestly, as if someone of your stature even _needs_ to be wasting her time at that ridiculous excuse for an Academy..." A final rustle of silk and she was gone.

Leaving Yoruichi with arms crossed and pouting prettily, the very picture of elegant outrage, alone in the parlor with no one to appreciate it. Well, aside from the person waiting in the receiving chamber beyond, but he was the _last_ person in Soul Society she wished to bear witness to her tantrum. He'd already seen one emotional outburst in the silent darkness of a laboratory weeks ago, and for some reason she had found that experience utterly humiliating. Normally, her little scenes were designed to be witnessed, carefully crafted and performed so as to either get her way, or get those around her to believe what she wished them to believe. She had long ago discovered that nurturing the image of the spoiled, insipid princess had a vast array of advantages. Iit was one of her favorite disguises and by far the most effective.

That was, until the night that had found her staring into silver eyes bright with intelligence, clear and unguarded. That perspicacious gaze had given her the distinct impression that, for once, her theatrics were not going to work. _At all._ That such shallow endeavors were beneath her. It had left her feeling unimaginably exposed, galling her at the time...but upon later reflection, as she'd replayed that scene in her mind, she couldn't say she'd thoroughly disenjoyed it...

For the first time in her pampered life, Shihouin Yoruichi had found herself confronted with the possibility one person, and a _commoner_ at that, saw beyond her lofty veneer to the intelligent, passionate and intensely lonely person inside, the one no one had ever bothered to find before. The one she did everything possible to keep hidden.

That insinuation had given her little choice in the weeks that had followed but to avoid Urahara Kisuke like a plague of Hollows. A plan that was no longer going to work, seeing as that was the very person currently sitting in the adjacent room waiting to tutor her.

She was still brooding over their last exchange, the wound of his judgment on her still very much fresh. It had been insulting enough how easily Urahara had gazed past her expertly-crafted walls to glimpse the _real_ her...and he'd had the _audacity_ to pronounced her _lacking_ in _substance_? The hurtful comment still tingled across her skin every time she accessed the memory. His unsettling glimpse of her that night had prompted a bout of self-consciousness and she had spent the last weeks not only avoiding him but also herself - her need to justify her life-long deceptions had compelled her to dive as deeply into the spoiled-noble role as possible, spending far more time than was sensible with her superficial friends and none at all on her studies. _Specious, is it?!_ Fine - if shallow was what he thought her, then shallow she would be...

The result had been a recent round of test scores thoroughly incompatible with academic advancement and, for a member of the Shihouin clan, anything less than prominence was considered failure. And, as her mother had so blithely pointed out a moment ago, failure simply was not an option.

All this flashed through her mind in an instant, along with a lurch of nausea (and a tiny thrill of something she refused to acknowledge as anticipation) at the thought of seeing the brilliant young man again. Sighing loudly in a manner thoroughly put-upon, Yoruichi twitched her voluminous skirts and flounced towards the door, pausing for a moment to collect herself before throwing the screen doors open. Fully composed into her haughtiest demeanor, she entered the room mentally wearing her thickest possible armor.

Urahara Kisuke rose at her entrance.

Yoruichi resolutely told herself, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't the least bit attractive. Really. Not at _all_.

With deliberate and scathing condescension, she looked him up and down and fervently sublimated how thoroughly she enjoyed it. "What are you doing here?"

"My Lady Shihouin," he said with a perfectly executed bow. It was the last thing he'd said to her all those weeks ago, and the subtle reminder brought a lovely flush to her cheeks. "I was assigned here as a tutor."

"Yes, yes, but that's not what I asked. Why are _you_ here?" Contempt fairly dripped from her voice.

"Yamamato-dono recommended me," he replied smoothly. "At your mother's request - she wanted only the best for her daughter."

"Ha!" Yoruichi erupted, her lip curling unpleasantly. "And what, pray tell, makes _you_ the best?"

"Yamamoto-dono was of the opinion that I would be suitable. I'm top of the class," was the calm rejoinder.

Yoruichi snorted in an incredibly unrefined manner. "_Which_ class?"

His grin was insufferable, even though the shrug managed to be somewhat self-effacing. "All of them."

_That_ shut her up.

"Humpf," she sniffed loftily. Assuming it was true, it left her little room for leverage. "I _guess_ you'll do." With little else for it, Yoruichi threw him another acid glare and flounced in all her affronted glory to the gilded study desk at the far wall. Settling herself regally, she waited as he silently approached and assiduously tried to ignore how amused his energy felt. He drew up a chair and seated himself next to her, far too close for her comfort, so she twitched away from him in the slightest of motions, exuding disgust at his proximity. _Troglodyte_...

She sat, stiffly and with chin raised, as he opened a scroll containing recent classroom notes, utterly refusing to look in his direction and rather fixing her attention out the window at the serenity garden beyond, strongly projecting the impression that as far as she was concerned he didn't even exist. Mentally, she dared him to teach her anything at all. He finished unrolling the scroll with the strong, slender fingers she found so fascinating, but the anticipated lecture failed to materialize.

Instead, to her surprise, the long pause that followed carried with it an edge of awkwardness. When Urahara finally spoke, she found her curiosity reluctantly awakened.

"Before we begin, My Lady, there is something I feel the need to address." He leaned forward in the seat next to her, and despite her resolve the beseeching tone of voice drew her eyes to his. They were softer than before, the intensity of those grey eyes unexpectedly disarming and almost painfully earnest. "Last time we spoke, I said something that I fear was...misinterpreted." She started to demur haughtily, but he rode right over her. "It was not my intention to suggest that you were obtuse. Quite the opposite; you make a fair show of being little better than your simpering friends," she stirred in obligatory offense, "Yet, unlike the others, I cannot help but posit that you boast an essentia far more complex than the image you project."

Yoruichi felt herself go very, very still. She hoped she was managing to hide even a little bit of the earthquake his words stirred in her.

Urahara leaned closer yet, his warm, slightly aseptic scent filling her nostrils. "What I truly find incomprehensible," he said softly, all amusement gone, "is why so few others seem to see how much there really is to you."

His observation was positively cataclysmic, but Yoruichi would damn her soul before she admitted to it. After all this time, all her careful hiding, all her safeguards, and this incorrigible ill-bred from Rukongai effortlessly insinuated himself into her deepest, most private self? She wanted desperately to cry but habit overtook her and she forced herself to sneer instead. "You just think you know everything, don't you?"

Urahara laughed, wearing a weariness that was at odds with the playful glint back at home in his eyes. "Hardly - and in your case my dear Lady, hardly anything at all." The sparkle sharpened, something in the grey pools daring her to argue with him. "It does not take a 'genius' to see that there is more to you than your surface appearance." He shifted to a warm grin that she hated to admit was rather charming. "Delightful though that may be..."

Yoruichi's fury died out completely at the obvious compliment, on more than one level. "Oh." His left eye twitched slightly at the word; she got the distinct impression that he had just filed that response away into his memory banks, for what possible reason she couldn't imagine. "Well," she continued, straightening her back and trying to shoulder her way back into disdain. "Yes. Apology accepted." She instantly regretted saying that, seeing as he hadn't actually apologized. Her flush met his deepening smile at her gaff, but to his credit he let it pass.

"My Lady." Urahara bowed again, in perfunctory perfection. "Now," he exerted, rising to his feet and fishing around in his kimono. "Let us begin our lesson..."

She sighed, desultory, but before she could slump he finished his rustling and removed a shiny, round object from the folds of his hakima.

"What is that?" Yoruichi couldn't help asking as he carefully placed it on the desk in front of her and, with a mischievous grin, flicked it with a forefinger.

The orb emitted a tiny, musical resonance. She jumped, gasping, as an image sprang into being in front of her as she reeled in back-pedal halfway across the room. The impossible filled her vision; she could clearly see herself hunched over the desk, staring at a scroll in bland concentration as the figure of Urahara hovered over her - a figure entirely separate from the young man standing aside and grinning at her wickedly. Mouth open, she looked at the faux-pair studying at the desk; the fake Kisuke was droning on in monotone about weights and measures, while the not-real-Yoruichi nodded in absent comprehension.

Yoruichi stared in fascination at the animated mirage. "By all the gods..._how_...?"

"A regrettable illusion, My Lady," a warm voice vibrated into her ear; she was far to shocked to wonder how he had gotten so close, his breath warming along her neck as he murmured in his compelling tenor. "A little something I invented for the occasion. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me for the presumption...what I wish to teach cannot be contained in a parlor."

Despite all the determination of heaven and earth, she felt an answering smile curving her lips. Turning to regard the mischievous eyes that hovered mere inches from hers, she felt her blood surge as she met his challenge. "Forgiveness is yours," she purred. "Provided the lesson proves worthwhile...?"

Slipping his hand into hers in the utmost impropriety, his grip firmed tightly. "Now _that_, my Lady, I am more than happy to oblige."

In a handful of _flashes_, they were standing in the wilderness beyond her mansion, surrounded by lush forests and babbling wildlife. Grinning at her, Kisuke kept her hand in his and led her along a well-worn deer path; as they walked through dappled sunlight, he pointed out various flora and fauna, delighting in her reactions nearly as much as she delighted in the wildness around her. Never in her life had she been allowing into such an uncontrolled environment, and she found the questions bubbling out of her.

"What kind of plant is that? What a strange little animal...what's it called? Why do the mushrooms grow in the shade...?"

Urahara answered every single one of her questions in a manner utterly unlike any teacher she'd ever met, satisfying her curiosity instead of bombarding her with rote information. It was the single most thrilling experience of her afterlife so far; and as a noble, that was saying quite a bit. Her head felt like it would explode from wonder, from fascination, from the endless variation that simmered and lived and died right outside the walls of her manse.

They spent the rest of the day flitting about Soul Society, as the pale and precocious youth at her side revealed more mysteries than she had ever dreamed possible, raising in her fertile mind far more questions than he had time to answer. He was considerably more accomplished at shunpo than she had credited him, although he was still far behind her in ability; flashing from street market to field to barren desert, he showed her facets of the afterworld she had never even dreamed of in her wildest imaginations, opening up to her a spirit-world full of wonder and mystery. As the day drew on, she found herself fervently wishing that time would halt in its tracks and allow her unhindered access to all the revelations he presented to her...

As the sun touched the horizon, however, she was dismayed to find their latest flash had landed them right back in the stuffy parlor of the Shihouin manse. Snapping out a quick hand, Urahara snagged up the mirror-ball, expertly palming it an instant before Yoruichi's mother slid open the far side panel door.

"Yoruichi? Has your lesson concluded for the day? The Duke is awaiting dinner, and your presence is required..." The patrician nose wrinkled slightly at Urahara's all-too-common silhouette. "I trust your lessons were satisfactory?"

"Quite," Yoruichi replied expertly, rising from the desk seat to regard Urahara coolly, the haughty princess once more. Turning grandly, she addressed him with little to no inflection. "Until next week, then?" she inquired dismissively.

He played his part perfectly. "Until next week," he confirmed, straightening from his formal bow with a miniscule smile reserved just for her. "My Lady..."

Every inch the queen-in-training she was, Shihouin Yoruichi exited the room with all the pomp and circumstance required of her station.

But hours later, in the languid company of a gouty Duke, she replayed the entire sparkling day in her mind, in between absent nods and socially appropriate responses. Something deep within her felt..._alive_. For the first time in her stable, noble, _set_ afterlife, Yoruichi found herself looking forward to something delightful and unpredictable. Sometime during the evenings bland entertainment, as a means of ignoring the Duke's indecorous attentions, she thanked every single god in heaven that had seen fit to put Urahara Kisuke in her path. And she counted, with mortifying precision, the minutes until she could see him again...


	5. Pranks

_Omake: Real World III_

"What do you think...-_think...-ink_...!?"

Urahara's voice echoed loudly around the cavernous space, hurting Yoruichi's sensitive ears as she managed a pained grimace.

"It's a little..._expansive_, don't you think?" she maued dubiously, padding in a circle and wondering how the hell Kisuke had finished so quickly.

"Well, sure...but I figured, as long as I'm at it there's no harm in improving on the original!" Kisuke bounded away from her, a kid playing in his enormous sandbox. "It's _twice_ as big!!" he shouted reverberally.

"Why do men _always_ think bigger is better...?" Yoruichi muttered to herself, turning in a circle to take in the enormous cavern. "Hey, where are the hot springs?!"

Urahara's dervish whirling came to a sudden halt. "Er, yeah, about that...still in the works. You wouldn't _believe_ how unrefined Real World plumbing is..."

Yoruichi sniffed her disapproval and headed back for the ladder, grumbling. "_Improved_, indeed."

Kisuke looked moderately offended. "You have no idea the problems I had to solve already! Just getting the damn thing _down_ here was chore enough – Tessai is _still_ pissed at me, hasn't spoken a word in a week - but _then_ I had to solve the issue of mass displacement."

Her ears twitched. "_Mass displacement_!?"

"Sure," he replied affably. "Without kido, all that dirt had to go somewhere."

She frowned, flicking a whisker. "So...where did it all go?"

A few moments later and they were standing in the house looking into the backroom; the little table had been pushed to the side and boxes upon boxes were crammed into the small space. Flowing out of them were strange little pieces of paper with odd markings all over them.

"They actually _paid_ you for it?!"

"Yup," Urahara grinning proudly. "Some construction mogul, all excited about 'clean fill'."

Yoruichi was floored by the very concept. "What kind of price did you get?"

He waved at the over-stuffed boxes. "What do _you_ think?"

Yoruichi shook her head in wonder at humans silly enough to pay good money for dirt. She had no frame of reference for human currency but it was hard to believe the room contained anything less than a small fortune. "What are you going to do spend it on?"

Kisuke sighed in deliberation. "Not sure yet. First and foremost, I need to get myself a hat..."

"A hat!?" Yoruichi snorted. "Dearest, with all this you could probably buy the whole _store_."

He cocked his head and looked at her, the expression on his face one that she had learned a long time ago indicated a blossoming epiphany.

"A whole _store,_ hmm? Interesting..."

* * *

_The only time it was possible to pull one over on the notoriously sharp and frustratingly flawless perception of Urahara Kisuke was to catch him in the middle of one of his experiments._

Which was how Urahara found himself flat on his back staring at the ceiling of an Academy lab trying not to wince as the remains of his chair bit painfully into his left kidney.

"Okay, Isshin," he muttered, trying to look angry underneath the rue. "You now have my undivided attention. What do you want?"

Thick, black hair and wild eyes poked into the upper left corner of his field of view; Kurosaki grinned down at him maniacally. "What're you doin' down there? Takin' a nap?"

A half-hearted attempt at a glare. "You used sulfuric acid to eat the legs of my chair out from under me until it collapsed." No good; a half-smile curled Kisuke's lips.

Isshin looked both proud and astonished, trying hide both under completely unbelievable innocence. "Did _not_. Anyway, you can't prove it..."

Kisuke didn't bother arguing, pointing instead at the half-empty and clearly-labeled bottle in Isshin's hand. Kurosaki tried to look as if he had no idea how _that_ got there before giving up entirely, that all-too-familiar brightness in his eyes; few things delighted Kurosaki Isshin more than a prank well-played, unless it was an even better one to come.

"It's Saturday! Only lame-ass idiots sit in labs on the weekend," the taller man dropped into a crouch, diabolical grin gleaming. "Let's get some rice and sake - we have plans to make!!"

"Can't." Urahara rolled away from his roommate's disappointed expression and the remains of the chair to bounce up to his feet. "I'm busy." He rubbed at the sore spot over his kidney and wondered if any permanent damage had been done.

"You can finish your project anytime!" Isshin growled, looking thoroughly put-off.

"I'm not talking about that." One quick glance at his monitor showed the experiment hopelessly skewed now anyway. "I've got to do something for Yama-dono."

"Ol' man Yama!?" Isshin's face twisted in a guffaw. "What's he got you doing now?"

"Tutoring," replied Kisuke, unable to hide the smile that leapt to his face. It quickly turned into a grimace as he noted the time. _Dammit_ - entire days could go by when he was in the labs without his noticing - s_he's gonna be pissed_...

"And you're just crazy enough to accept, huh?" Isshin snorted. "I'm glad he doesn't saddle _me_ with extra assignments. Bah - blow it off, we've got pranks to dream up-!"

"I'm already late," Kisuke protested. "Tomorrow-!" And in a puff of kido, he was gone...

...and only slightly out of breath by the time he rematerialized in the ornate Shihouin drawing room. He didn't have to look for her; her ferocious energy was seething throughout the room, drawing his eyes to the curvy figure standing before the large window. Kisuke wondered peripherally if she had deliberately chosen her pose, knowing what an elegant picture she made, backlit with the afternoon sun and raining apple blossoms streaming across the garden behind her. He had little doubt that she knew exactly what effect she was creating, but his tardiness seemed to have spoiled any plans on her part to exude nonchalance.

She was already frowning at him, trying hard not to look ruffled while her eyes flashed liquid gold ire. "_You_ are late."

"And _you_ were counting," he returned with a knowing grin. She looked torn between fury, surprise and delight at his perception, but he gave her no time to launch into whatever tirade she'd undoubtedly been rehearsing. Deftly enabling the mirror ball and setting it on the study desk, he threw out a hand to her. "Let's go."

To her credit, she stalled for a moment, managing a brief show of pique before curiosity and eagerness overcame her. Her hand reached for his hesitantly, as if unused to the gesture, but when her fingers twined into his their grip was firm. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief and carried the merest shadow of relief, as if she'd been afraid their last lesson had been nothing more than a fluke to win her over and he would insist on staying in the parlor. His grin deepened as grey eyes met golden.

"Where do you want to go today?"

The reply was instant. "Anywhere but here."

'Anywhere' turned out to be the Great Marketplace of Rukongai, for convenience as much as any other reason. It wasn't far from Sereitei, situated in the northern section of one of the closer, more orderly districts, but for all its proximity it was a world apart from the lofty perches of the Noble houses. Gripping her hand firmly and ignoring her slight hesitation as the walls of Sereitei flashed effortlessly by, Kisuke set his sights on the seemingly-endless swath of brightly-colored tents and huts, dropping them right in the middle of the central square.

The instant they settled, he watched as Yoruichi's eyes widened in fascination at the sea of sounds, smells, voices and faces surrounding her. All around them, in a great cacophony of sound, sellers were crying their wares, skillsmen hawking their services and buyers arguing loudly over the price of both. Calmly he waited, watching her; the noblewoman's grip tingled his fingers with its strength, wide eyes trying to make sense of the chaos around her. For one long moment she looked overwhelmed...and like a summer storm all of her hesitations were swept away by awe and curiosity. Kisuke nearly grinned; he could watch the play of thoughts and feelings spilling across her face for centuries, but he'd already decided that the calm, intense curiosity she wore now was his favorite of her expressions. A bellowing merchant pushed past them, causing Lady Shihouin to twitch closer to him, grabbing his arm tightly as she tried to soak in the mass stimuli that assaulted her.

"Urahara-san...where are we?" Her glaze flickered about restlessly, trying to take in everything at one.

"The Marketplace," he replied. "It's one of the oldest and most complex areas of Rukongai..." Letting her grip his arm tightly, he led her around, pointing out the various people and trades that lived and thrived in the great bazaar, explaining how vital the vast array of supplies and services was to all of the wandering soul town and how its influence and trade effected even the most lofty and sheltered communities of Sereitei itself. The questions predictably poured out of her; she couldn't learn enough about the different people and industries that made up one of Soul Societies greatest economies. He noted with delight that she had a natural instinct for societal workings and the plays of different power structures and demographics, and he surprised her with the amount of influence Rukongians had on Sereitei in turn. When he gave her general figures on how much money passed through the Marketplace in a given season, she even managed to look impressed, for a noble. Bartering fascinated her, as did the meticulously specialized craftsmen that plied their wares on every street corner. She gazed in awe at the infinite types of fruit and vegetables for sale and was appalled at how frequently they witnessed a filching of edibles by the street children. That was, until Urahara explained that often that was the only way orphan children got anything to eat.

Something in his voice caught her notice, and she peered at him out of the corner of her eye. "You sound as if you speak from experience," she noted with an almost playful haughtiness. When he just looked at her and smiled, something horrified passed through her eyes. "Were you one of those urchins!?"

"For a while," he answered with a tiny shrug; she looked more upset at his casual dismissal of the experience than anything else. "But there were good parts, too."

She looked appalled, slipping into unintentional snootiness. "Like _what_?"

"Like this," he answered with a grin, and ignoring her tiny yelp he pulled free and disappeared.

Moments later, he peeked out from the tiny alleyway into which he'd hidden, risking a glance back at his charge. She looked positively furious, whirling around and trying to catch a glimpse of him; probably trying to sense his reiatsu, too, but he'd thrown her by using mere stealth instead of flash-step to vanish from sight. Keeping an eye on her, he slowly crept among shadows, dodging behind baskets and stacks of wares to slip up next to a fruit stand, completely unseen. Waiting until just the right moment, he deftly snagged a pomegranate and quickly slipped away.

It only took him a moment to retrace his steps and report by Yoruichi's side. By now she was glaring fit to roast a pig and looked hardly relieved when he reappeared next to her.

"Where the hell did you go!?" she fairly hollered, not the least bit mollified by the fruit he proffered.

"I just went to-"

"To steal me some _fruit_!?" She was positively shrieking now; Kisuke raised a hand to shush her, but no sooner were the words out of her mouth than the portly fruit seller caught wind of the ruckus and glanced their way. Seeing the shiny pomegranate, the woman grabbed up a broom and launched herself at them, screaming like a banshee. Lady Yoruichi whipped her head back around and lasered him with a look. "_Now_ what, genius??"

He grinned like a damn fool. "Now we run!" With a wink and a laugh, he flashed away, oozing reiatsu so he would be sure she could follow him. It was a useless precaution; she not only followed him, but at a momentary pause in an alleyway, she snagged the fruit from his hand and winked away, her glare barely muting her triumphant chuckle.

"Hey - that's mine!" he called after her good-naturedly; she paused briefly on a rooftop.

"No, it's not - it's _hers_, and I'm going to give it back to her, you dirty thei-" Her moment of righteous indignation cost her the advantage, and suddenly the pomegranate was gone to a whiff of kido and Urahara's gleeful chortle. "Hey! Get back here...!"

With a flash she was after him, and that quickly their mad dash turned into a hearty game of tag. She was faster than him - a _lot_ faster - but he knew Rukongai like the back of his hand, and his long experience and memory of every alley and building gave him just enough advantage to keep her on her toes as they snagged the fruit back and forth from each other.

"Give it back!"

"No - I'm hungry!"

"Then pay for it!"

A deep belly laugh "Spoken like a true noble!!"

_That_ pissed her off, and the next time the fruit changed hands it was with far too much force; instead of winking it away from him, Yoruichi managed to tear the ripe fruit right down the middle. With a yelp, she ground to a halt, staring in dismay at the ruined produce. Kisuke dropped onto the roof tiles behind her, diving into the ripe pods with gusto.

"There - nothing for it but to eat it." Juice was already dripping down his chin when he looked back at her; she looked crushed and furious at the same time. "Go on," he encouraged her. "No sense in letting it go to waste."

Throwing him one last, doubtful glare, she finally allowed herself a delicate nibble; her face lit up and she looked at him in surprise. "This is the most delicious pomegranate I've ever tasted."

He chuckled warmly, scooping another handful into his hand before popping them in his mouth. "See? It tastes better when you have to work for it."

She thought that over for a moment before her brow furrowed in a tiny glare. "That wasn't work - that was _stealing_."

"It's the same thing here, sometimes," he replied, but when her frown deepened he raised a conciliatory hand. "I'll go back tomorrow and pay her. I promise."

Finally mollified, she settled herself down next to him, and the only thing filling the warm summer air for long minutes thereafter were the juicy slurps of satisfied munchers. They sat for a while on the warm tiles in silence, watching the sun sink lower. As it ambled towards the horizon, Lady Shihouin suddenly made a strange squeaking sound and slipped off the roof.

"Oiy!" Eyebrows raised, Kisuke leapt to the edge and peered over into the alleyway below. "Are you alright...hey, be careful!" The Lady Shihouin was crouched in a dark corner, holding her hand out to a small, furry animal. "Alleycats can be vicious-!" In a flash he was on the ground, his protest dying on his lips as the ragged, scruffy tomcat sniffed her finger and, with a mighty rumble, rubbed against her knuckles and went about winding himself around her leg.

Yoruichi made a tiny sound of delight, petting the rough fur as if it were the smoothest silk she'd ever felt. "Don't be silly, he's adorable! And he likes me, see?"

Folding his arms and leaning against the nearby wall, Kisuke let a small grin paint his features as he watched the two of them. "Don't you have cats in your mansion?"

Still petting the purring tom, Yoruichi shook her head, eyes still beaming. "Mother thinks they're bad luck. But you're not bad luck are you...?" she drifted off into inane little coos and murmurs as the onyx feline curled around her feet and licked her hand. Face glowing, she glanced up at Urahara. "Can we come back next week and feed him?"

"Of course," he replied, glancing in turn at the sky. "But if we don't go now, there won't _be_ a 'next week'..."

* * *

The image of noblewoman and feline still played in his mind as the sun drifted below the horizon and he made his way back to his rooms at the Academy. Entering the small room he shared with Kurosaki and nodding absently at his roommate (and not bothering to ask what he was doing with a roll of toilet paper, a ball of twine, seventeen paper clips and a box of oatmeal) Kisuke threw himself onto his ever-rumpled bed and began disseminating the entire afternoon in his head. Something about those last moments in the alleyway tickled his fascination...

Isshin grunted. "Have fun tutoring?"

"I always have fun, Isshin," Kisuke replied, eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. "May I ask what you're doing?"

"You may not," Kurosaki sniffed, "It's not done yet anyway; I gotta go to market tomorrow and get the final touches." A dark eyebrow quirked. "I hear pomegranates are in season."

One silver eye peeked open. "You followed me." It wasn't a question.

Isshin grunted. "You passed on prank-planning and sake to go _tutoring_; you practically _invited_ me to find out what you were up to."

Kisuke drew himself up onto his elbows, regarding his roommate with a stillness that to anyone else would have seemed mildly threatening. "What did you find out?"

"Lots," Isshin chuckled; noting his roommate's demeanor, the dark-haired man slipped into a rare moment of seriousness. "Kisuke, do you _know_ who she is?" Urahara didn't reply, grey eyes sparkling keenly; after a moment his roommate guffawed. "Oh relax, your secret's safe with me; although if you insist on fraternizing with a member of the Shihouin clan, you better count on _nothing_ being a secret for long. They single-handedly run the SMC, you idiot; there's _nothing_ they don't know." Isshin's lips twisted wryly, the energy in the room shifting. "Do you have _any_ idea what you're getting yourself into?"

Kisuke relaxed into a mischievous grin, dropping back on the bed and folding his hands across his chest. "Do I ever?"

"I'll give you this, madman-Kisuke, you don't set your sights low, that's for damn sure." As Kisuke settled into his pillows, he could hear Kurosaki chuckling quietly. "Pursuing _the_ Shihouin princess...I'm gonna have to work my _ass_ off to top that one..."


	6. Rukongai

_Omake: Real World IV_

"_No_." Her tail whipped. "No no no no no no. No way in _hell_."

Urahara gave her his most practiced puppy-dog look of deepest hurt. "You don't like it?

"It looks utterly ridiculous!" Just looking at the green-and-white striped millinery made her nauseous. "Kisuke, _tell_ me you're joking!"

"I am not." He pulled himself up proudly. "I like it, and I've always wanted to sport a hat..."

Yoruichi ground her teeth, a sound that was remarkably effective when in feline form. "Well, at least get rid of the damn fan."

"No way! It keeps me cool..."

"The hat then."

"That does, too!"

Yoruichi very seriously considered biting his ankle.

* * *

_Arriving well and truly on-time the next week, Kisuke noticed the Lady Shihouin's pockets were bulging with food._

"My Lady, do you know the odds of the exact same stray cat showing up?" he asked with a grin, starting up the now-customary illusion at the desk behind him. Not that Kisuke was trying to be negative; he'd actually computed a fairly logical number and was eager to share it.

But the Shihouin princess just sniffed at him dismissively. "He'll show up; I told him we'd be there."

Urahara quirked an eyebrow. "Do you remember _exactly_ which alleyway?" he teased, and was rewarded with a thoroughly snotty huff.

"_Do_ I? I'll beat you there, Mr. Smarty-Pants!" With a wink she was gone, and another game of tag begun.

When Kisuke finally caught up to her, he was panting - rather harder than he'd have liked, considering she was either entirely unphased by the lengthy chase or had arrived with enough lead-time to have already caught her breath. Neither option did much for Kisuke's considerable ego; somewhat chagrined, he decided that being completely overmatched - in this one area, at least - was actually kind of exhilarating.

Yoruichi was alone in the alley, making inviting little smacking noises with her mouth and glancing around with determination, throwing him a quick, tiny glare. "He'll be here," she insisted.

Kisuke was of no mind to argue with her, since it let him pass the time watching her lips pucker to make the kissy-sounds, an amusement cut all-too short when a small dark form brushed past his legs to streak towards the beckoning noblewoman.

Yoruichi squeaked with delight and pounced on the purring tomcat, who immediately set about devouring every morsel she fed him. The stray made short work of her offerings, purring ferociously while bolting down the table scraps of nobility. When it finally lay down, round-tummied and contentedly cleaning himself, Yoruichi turned to look at Kisuke with a worried pout furrowing her brow. "I hate to leave him - what if he doesn't get anything to eat until next week?"

Kisuke smiled, not bothering to explain the vast unlikelihood of that happening. "I've got an even better idea. Bring him with you; I know a place where he can stay - and I can promise you, starvation will _not_ be an option."

Yoruichi could get no more out of him, so when curiosity got the better of her ire she finally gathered the stuffed and purring tomcat into her arms and proceeded to follow him through the colorful streets of Rukongai. They ambled for quite some time through several districts, for she insisted they walk normally for fear that shunpo would terrify the poor kitty. Kisuke occasionally pointed out matters of interest and Yoruichi chattered away with enthusiasm, her insightful questions underscored by the cat's contented rumble.

It was well into the afternoon as they rounded a corner - Urahara was trying to explain some of the more complex facets of Rukongian social customs - when there was a sudden shriek and flurry of colored skirts.

"Hey, _handsome_!" A buxom redhead came flying out of nowhere to throw herself into Urahara's arms. Without further preamble, the trollop proceeded to kiss him thoroughly.

Yoruichi reacted without a moment's thought; dropping the tomcat, she grabbed the annoyingly pretty girl by the collar, bodily hauled her off Urahara and held her dangling from one hand with little apparent effort. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing??" she screeched.

Almost as quickly, Kisuke threw up a hand to stop her, calm her down. "No, wait-!"

"_Excuse_ me?!" Yoruichi's glared fit to sear his bones, her ire tripling as realization hit her. "Perhaps you'd like me to leave you two alone??"

He was outright laughing now. "Please, it's not what it-"

The redhead squirmed under Yoruichi's iron grip, glaring at both of them. "OW! You didn't have to yank me..."

"_You_ shut up," Yoruichi snapped, rounding on the chortling Kisuke. "_What's so funny_?"

Before he could explain, a loud voice rumbled behind them. "Oiy, what's the trouble here?"

Three very large, threatening-looking men looming at the other end of the alleyway had turned towards the disturbance and were ambling ominously in their direction. The largest, a muscle-bound mook with thick, bushy eyebrows, examined the scene suspiciously, directing his concern at the buxom beauty still writhing under Yoruichi's merciless grasp. "Are these people botherin' ya, Irri?"

The hussy took full advantage of the situation, pouting prettily in a way that made Yoruichi instantly hate her. "Uzuko-chan, I was just tryin' to get a birthday kiss..." she whined.

"You _assaulted_ him!" Yoruichi, shaking the girl fit to rattle her brains out. "We were just walking by, minding our own business-"

Uzuko rounded on Kisuke. "Are you messin' around with our pretty little sister, you worthless scumbag?" For some reason that just made Urahara laugh harder, a fact which only made Yoruichi an order of magnitude more furious. Before she could properly take control of the situation, the smallest of the strongarms grabbed Kisuke in a headlock, rather effectively cutting off his air supply while the third socked him square in the ribs. Yoruichi screeched, _"Let him go!!"_ and hastily summoned reiatsu...

She came up short as a wall of spirit-power - cold and clear and frighteningly strong - slammed around her. It took her a moment to realize that it was Kisuke's. Their eyes locked, the look in his silver gaze halting her even as his face started turning colors from lack of oxygen. Confused, Yoruichi wondered if all this craziness was some facet of Rukongian society that he'd been trying to explain to her - and absently wondered where he'd learned to summon a shield spell without incanting. Before she could make sense out of anything, the merciless headlock dissolved into a raucous bear hug. Kisuke gasped for breath as the three brutes started jeering and laughing, gleefully clapping him on the back amidst general and good-natured banter. Irri slipped free in the confusion and made a big show of flouncing over join the melee, leaving Yoruichi utterly flustered and more than a bit annoyed.

"Urahara-san," she seethed, wrapping her noble ire around herself, "_who are these people_??"

Grabbing his assaulted ribs and trying to get his breath back while avoiding another avaricious kiss from Irri, Kisuke managed to wheeze through his grin. "_This_ is my family."

A flurry of introductions ensued, Yoruichi suspiciously regarding these apparent relatives, followed by a momentary hitch when it came time for Urahara to introduce his 'class-mate'. A quick look passed between them, before he named her simply "Shi-san". Yoruichi very nearly flushed at the obvious hedging, but is Kisuke's 'siblings' noticed they paid it no mind. The group boisterously turned towards home, gabbing eagerly about the birthday party that was being prepared, Yoruichi shot her cohort a terse glare.

"Shi-san?" she inquired rather haughtily, under her breath.

Urahara just shrugged. "Would you rather I have introduced you properly?" He glanced at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "It's not like Rukongians are gossips or anything..." His good-natured sarcasm brought a tiny flush to her cheeks and she had to concede his point. So she managed to flash a slightly grateful smile at him as they rounded a corner and came upon a large, run-down house.

Yoruichi spent the rest of the afternoon meeting the rest of Kisuke's 'family', which turned out to be large, effusive and seemingly endless. The household was open to anyone and everyone who needed some familial comfort, and was run by an enormous and intensely affectionate woman referred to universally as 'Mama'. Mama made quite a fuss over the lovely, violet-haired beauty and quickly laid out a wide array of snacks. This seemed to be the normal state of affairs, as everyone present tore into the tasty treats, and dozens upon dozens of new arrivals streamed in and out, liberally helping themselves to Mama's food and hugs.

Yoruichi quickly lost track of how many brothers and sisters dropped by, all greeting Kisuke and "Shi-chan" as if they were long-lost loved-ones. No one seemed to take note of Yoruichi's noble bearing, or her discomfort with the flurry of hugs in which she was repeatedly enveloped, or her total shock at the numerous pecks planted on her cheeks. Rukongians, clearly, had an entirely different set of standards when it came to personal space, and propriety such as Yoruichi was used to was nowhere to be seen. Kisuke was greeted with more elaborate kisses from several 'sisters', and by the time he'd detangled himself from the latest bubbly, pretty thing Yoruichi could hardly contain herself.

"Your 'sisters' are certainly..._affectionate_," she sniffed in a low aside, refusing to notice her own flush or the opening strains of jealousy.

Kisuke's return look was amused, far too observant for her liking, and just slightly apologetic. "It's different here; no one is really related to each other, you know. The rules aren't exactly the same as with pure-bred families." He shrugged, with a grin. "Besides, they're affectionate with _everyone_."

That hardly made Yoruichi feel better, but as the day wore on and several new brotherly arrivals - only those who could be considered attractive, Yoruichi noted - were greeted in a similarly and borderline incestuous manner, Yoruichi strangely began to relax. It was difficult to feel uncomfortable for long around such a wealth of warmth and affection, strange as some of it might seem to her. Despite being part of a large family of her own, she had little experience in such a chaotic social gathers and eventually found herself comfortably sitting to the side, feeding the recovered tomcat nibbles of food while laughing right along with everyone else. There was no shortage of tales regaled and pranks remembered, many of them centering around Urahara-san, who seemed to be both the propagator and recipient of innumerable escapades.

It all passed too quickly, and long before Yoruichi was ready Urahara was glancing at the waning sunlight streaming in the window. Wordlessly, they exchanged a glance and Kisuke began the elaborate process of extricating himself from the family's attentions. Everyone, Mama included, made a big show of showering them with protests, insisting that they were leaving right before the fun began and reminding them of the party that was planned, but Kisuke made their excuses with a firmness borne of long practice. Laughing and swearing to return in time for the big event, he worked their way out into the courtyard, quickly laced their fingers together and gathered reiatsu.

"What's the party for?" Yoruichi asked, her curiosity peaked and a deep swell of jealousy effusing her. "Is it Irri's birthday today?"

"Nope," Kisuke, replied as they flicked onto a rooftop. "It's mine."

On the next rooftop she gaped at him. "Really?" Among nobles, birthdays were enormously elaborate and mind-numbingly boring affairs. The warm house bursting full of relatives and edibles they were leaving behind promised to be a wholly different experience, and her chest ached with the desire to be a part of it.

Kisuke shrugged. "Sort of. It's the day I joined the family, which is pretty much the same thing here." Rukongai flashed behind them as they slipped into Sereitei. "In any case, as you may have noticed, my family never passes up on the chance to have a party. Besides," he added as her house loomed before them, "I might not even go. I did have a couple of experiments I wanted to finish up."

As they popped into existence in her parlor, Yoruichi's expression bore incredulity. "You're going to pass up your own birthday party??" She thought of her own impending, dolorous evening and felt a deep surge of pure revulsion.

"Well, that depends," Kisuke replied with a grin as he slipped the mirrorball back into his pocket.

"On what?" she asked, her curiosity peaked, trying to imagine why on earth anyone would miss a party...

Kisuke leaned in for a quick, mischievous whisper before disappearing in a flash of shunpo.

_"On whether or not you can sneak out of your room later and come with me."_


	7. Seen and Unseen

The moon sat high in the brilliant night sky and for once Urahara Kisuke wondered if he had been too presumptuous.

He was crouched on a rooftop not too far away from the Shihouin manse; out of sight, but not so distant that his reiatsu couldn't be sensed. That is, by a certain noblewoman who just might be sneaking about. _If_ she wanted to find him. _If she was even coming_...

Refusing to doubt, Kisuke allowed himself a small grin. _She would come_. He'd seen the light of challenge glinting in her intoxicating eyes, the instant before he left. His final words had been tantamount to dangling candy in front of a baby, and even with as little time as they'd spent together he already knew Shihouin Yoruichi wouldn't pass on the chance to leave her stolid, noble world behind and have an adventure.

Had he been a little older, he would have been honest enough to admit to himself that he was hoping, ever so slightly, that it was the chance to spend time with _him_, and not just the party, that would prove to be the draw. But he was young yet, and so Kisuke passed on introspection and distracted himself from his ponderings with more scientific thoughts.

And waited.

He was counting stars when he felt the presence at his back; warm, strong, silken. With a razor-sharp edge to it that made his pulse speed up. As usual, her reiatsu brought to mind a panther; dark, graceful, and utterly capable of gutting you if it so chose. Wisely noted; he grinned and spoke, eyes still on the heavens. "Took you long enough."

"Urahara-san," she muttered darkly and with no small amount of pride, "If you had _any_ idea what kind of security I just slipped through, you wouldn't be nearly so cocky." Yoruichi walked around him silently to stand before him, hands on hips and slender form blocking his view; not that he minded in the slightest, his mouth instantly going rather dry. She had abandoned her usual voluminous, silken robes and was clad only in skin-tight fabric, black as night and hugging every delicious curve of her body. Her lean, well-muscled limbs rippled below the attire and the neckline plunged rather lower than necessary, offering a wide swath of creamy, olive skin and leaving very little to the imagination. She was smirking at him in a way that made him very glad that his own, looser clothing was much more forgiving. Reaching her hand out, her lips curled wickedly. "This shindig of yours had better be worth my while."

Kisuke swallowed hard and got to his feet a bit less steadily than he would have liked. Recovering quickly, he grabbed her hand and recklessly pulled. "My Lady," he murmured a bit hoarsely. "When have I ever let you down?"

* * *

The party lit up the Rukongian night with laughter and gaiety, and if Kisuke's home had been raucously crowded before it was positively seething with inhabitants now. The event had drawn an enormous crowd, and greeted the guest of honor with a roar. No sooner had they arrived than the party broke loose into deliriously entertaining chaos.

Yoruichi was thoroughly satisfied at the entrance she made. More than one eyebrow was raised at her slinky attire, and when the appreciative glances accompanied many a pout from 'sisters' who were clearly outclassed, Yoruichi decided that this particular escapade was already well worth it. Urahara, for his part, seemed more than content at her unspoken claim and spent the entire evening hovering closer to her than was strictly necessary. Even when friends or relatives pulled him aside to chat or drink or affectionately jibe, Urahara and Yoruichi were never out of sight of each other, their gaze meeting across the chaos and eyes glinting with a sort of quiet, secret enjoyment.

More than one drink was pressed into Yoruichi's hands, and by the time the crowd surged and began to drift outwards into the night her head was considerably lighter than she could ever remember it being before. Noticing the room was beginning to clear somewhat, she turned and found Urahara at her side. "Is the party over already?"

"Hardly," he grinned, plucking her nearly-empty cup from her hands and downing the rest of its contents. "They're just making some space."

"For what?" she muttered, noticing that everyone else in the room seemed to have paired off. She snaked a suspicious glance at him, but at that moment music started playing, drowning out any chance of idle chatter. Gleefully, the other pairs in the room whirled into dance, and Yoruichi was hard-pressed to take in the wild abandon of the display. She'd been to dances before, of course, but they were a world apart from the scene before her. No rigid forms, no adherence to perfection or the careful execution of prescribed movements. This was utterly unrehearsed and seemed to follow no logical pattern at all. She watched, fascinated, for several songs before Urahara laughed at the frown of concentration on her face.

"What are you doing?" he chuckled.

"I'm trying to figure it out," she replied haughtily. The music was infectious and it was hard to stand still; she was determined to learn the steps so that she could have her turn on the floor. "What's this dance called? Can you teach it to me?"

He laughed again. "It's not 'called' anything. They're just dancing." She glared at him, wondering if he was mocking her, but he just dipped his head to meet her gaze, foreheads practically touching and his eyes sparkling. "Fine - you want to learn the dance? Then close your eyes."

For a moment she glared, but there was a challenge in those grey orbs and she was damned if she was going to back down. Almost angrily, she snapped her eyes shut, planted her hands on her hips and waited for him to make his point.

Kisuke's scent filled her nostrils, and suddenly he was pressed close to her, one arm snaking around her waist as the other unplanted her hand and gripped it firmly. She nearly squeaked in protest, but his low voice warmed her ear soothingly. "Listen. Just listen. The music will tell you what to do."

Yoruichi stood stiffly, allowing his proximity to warm her and trying to figure out if she was mad that he was so close or mad that she was enjoying it. Stubbornly, she kept her eyes shut...and _listened_. The tune had a rollicking, bouncy melody that seemed to worm its way all the way through her body, and trained as she was to near-perfect control of every muscle it wasn't long before she began to instinctively move, expressing every note with a graceful abandon she never knew she'd possessed. The body wrapped close around her responded in kind, seeming to know her every movement almost before she did, effortlessly matching every sway and whirl. Before long they were flying across the dance floor, Yoruichi's eyes open and locked in shared delight on Kisuke's beaming face. They made little work of the dance floor, whirling faster and faster and easily outperforming everyone else in the room. Before long, Yoruichi was laughing out loud and refusing to let Kisuke take a break, as hours passed in breathless abandon.

As the night drew on, only Yoruichi seemed tireless, and one by one the other couples slowed with exhaustion. Finally the music changed, shifting into something slow and deep and languid. There was an almost melancholy aire to the next song, something unfamiliar thrumming in the air, and she looked at Kisuke with a tiny bit of confusion.

"Erm, I think we should take a break," he suggested with a strange reluctance. Grabbing her hand, he started to lead her from the floor, but she held her ground with a curious expression.

"I'm not tired. Why, do you want to stop dancing?" Yoruichi felt oddly rebuffed, but he only smiled at her.

"No," he replied, meaning it. "But _you_ might." He glanced pointedly at the other couples; they had twined themselves together in response to the huskiness of the music, hip to hip and hands in very unusual places, and were moving in a manner wholly different from before.

It only took a moment for a flush to effuse the noblewoman's face. "Oh," was all she could think to say, but she stood there and watched for a while longer, oddly drawn to the licentious motions, the way each couple seemed to meld into each other in perfect time to the sensuous music. Something about it scared and excited her, and despite all the exercise she'd already gotten that night, Yoruichi felt her pulse starting to speed up. She glanced at Kisuke, who was watching her intently, and felt something in her chest fluttering. It took her a moment to find her voice, given the way he was looking at her. "Do you...know _this_ dance?"

Silently, he nodded; she got the distinct impression he was breathing a little harder than normal. Watching her, he waited.

Feeling her heart skip a beat, she inched in closer to him. Peering up into his eyes from beneath thick, black lashes, she murmured almost too low to hear.

"Teach me."

Something in his eyes flared before settling into a grey molten simmer, and after the merest of hesitations he pulled her close. Despite her request, she had to consciously force herself to relax as their bodies settled against each other; instinctively, her arms came up to snake around his neck as one of his hands settled on her hip. His warm and damp scent nearly set her head spinning again, but he pinned her with his eyes, only an inch from hers, and suddenly everything just fit. It was as if his body was a part of hers, and she knew that it would respond to her every whim, as would hers to his every motion. Eyes locked, breathing in tandem, they started to move.

Every single part of her caught fire almost at once. As one, they swayed to every swooping note of the languid, smoldering music; not once did they take their eyes off each other. She could feel every ripple of his limbs as if they belonged to her, and before long her body moved as if it had a mind of their own, hands drifting from his neck down the ropy muscles of his back; the lower they got, the darker his gaze became, and by the time her hands settled on his hips Yoruichi felt her own heartbeat threatening to strangle her...

Suddenly, Kisuke's gaze cleared and he snapped his eyes up to look over her shoulder. "What is it, Isshin?" Yoruichi instantly pulled back and whipped around, blushing furiously and wondering how anyone had managed to sneak up behind them. Urahara tensed. "I didn't think you were coming tonight."

"Dammit, Kisuke; you two are fairly lighting up the district," a dark-haired, wild-eyed man growled at them, glancing at her as if unsurprised. "I could sense your reiatsus flaring all the way at the dorms - are you _trying_ to get caught?!"

Kisuke was instantly on alert, but Yoruichi was already reaching with her own senses, knowing what to look for. Her stomach twisted sickeningly as she came across exactly what she feared; a soft, hazy presence, all but unnoticeable to those not trained to find it.

"It's too late," she muttered hoarsely, her wide eyes meeting grey ones that were quickly hardening into steel. "They're already coming."

Isshin swore viciously, then with a sudden shift in demeanor he grinned maniacally and grabbed both their arms. "Well, _fuck_, at least I got here for the real fun." In an instant, with the unmistakable sensation of reiatsu being drawn, they flashed away.

Settling on a nearby rooftop, Kisuke glanced quickly at Isshin, who nodded curtly and spread reiatsu more thickly around them; drawing his own power, Urahara chanted under his breath for a long moment before smiling in grim satisfaction and plunking down on the tiles. Isshin joined him, and they turned to watch the building they had just vacated.

Yoruichi's eyes boggled at their casual surveillance. "Are you two absolutely insane?? We've got to get out of here..."

Urahara shot her a soothing glance. "It's okay, we're completely undetectable." Unconcerned, he turned back.

She fairly bit off the next words behind clenched teeth. "The Secret Mobile Corps is seconds away, and you're sitting in plain view on a rooftop!"

Isshin just grunted while Urahara grinned, eyes still on his home below. "They won't find us. We perfected this particular little illusion ages ago; why do you think we get away with so many pranks?" Isshin grinned next to him, two hyenas perched on a roof. "They can't even trace our reiatsu, thanks to Kurosaki here." Isshin absently waved acknowledgment as Urahara continued his soft explanation. "His spirit power seems to manifest within itself the ability to completely blank out reiatsu, even the very presence of it. Between that and the cloaking spell I just cast, we might as well be invisible for all your senses could tell you." He quickly shushed at a barely-perceptible motion across the way. "Of course, if their ears still work..."

Yoruichi took the hint and silently settled down next to them, watching in grim familiarity as the Corps unit below performed a maneuver she herself had executed in countless drills, and couldn't help but feel her skin prickling. The party was quickly broken up, every attendee as well as the building searched thoroughly and efficiently. They watched long enough to make sure that no one was unduly harassed and no real harm brought to anyone - as if there would have been, Yoruichi huffed silently to herself; the SMC had strict rules against unnecessary assaults - before they flashed away together.

Pausing on a rooftop just inside the walls of Sereitei, Isshin and Urahara exchanged glances, looking prouder than new parents.

"It worked!! It freakin' _worked_, dammit!!" Isshin chortled happily. "Did you see the looks on the SMC's faces?? They were baffled!!" He hooted happily and did a small dance, halting abruptly; the man's mercurial mood changes were dizzying. "Hey, Kisuke, this means we can finally try the cane prank...!!"

Yoruichi quickly put the pieces together. "Wait a minute; that was the first time you tried your little hiding act out on the SMC?" When Urahara nodded calmly, she fairly hollered at both of them. "You mean, you weren't sure it would work?!"

Kisuke looked unconcerned. "I am now," he replied with an insufferable grin, glancing at his roommate. "Thanks for bailing us out, by the way. I shouldn't have let things get out of hand. We'll be more careful next time." Yoruichi felt oddly chagrined and slightly embarrassed, all mingled with a strange gratefulness. She realized what he'd just said, and a flash of their earlier heat filled her chest.

_Next time_. She looked up to see Kisuke staring at her intently, with a faint grin, and oblivious to Isshin's knowing observation, she smiled faintly back. Before the energy between them could swell again, Isshin cleared his throat.

"We'd better get back to our respected domiciles before the SMC gets around to checking them." He managed a surprisingly formal and well executed bow, murmuring, "My Lady," to her great surprise. With a strange, twisty expression Isshin popped out of sight, leaving their lack of protection by his strange reiatsu to galvanize the two into swiftly parting.

"Next week," she whispered, her voice much breathier than she'd intended.

His glowing, silver eyes gave the moon a run for its money, his reply equally husky. "Next week, _My Lady_."


	8. Lines Crossed

"So, where are we going this time?" Yoruichi didn't even try to keep the excitement out of her voice.

Her mother had just vanished out the parlor door, secure in the knowledge that her wayward teenager would be spending the next several hours placidly learning her kanji and kido. When the charade had begun months ago, Yoruichi had worried that the sleight-of-hand would be stumbled across by a curious relative checking up on her, but she was quickly assuaged. Urahara, in a stunning example of intuition, had banked on the fact that no questions would be asked, no illusion probed, as long as it presented the nobles with an image of what was only to be expected.

"You nobles only see what you want to see," he'd insisted, his assertion far less galling than the fact that it turned out to be true. The irritation his constant accuracy produced in her was soon eclipsed by the delightful forbiddingness of their little escapades.

They always started off with a shunpo-chase, laughing like little kids as Sereitei flickered around them, flashing faster and farther until they were out of breath with mirth and it was clear that Yoruichi had won. This usually did not take long unless she deliberately held herself back in order to lengthen their fun. Once defeated, Urahara would slip his hand into hers and she would let him lead her wherever he willed, his latest lesson waiting to seize her mind and imagination.

A mountain top. A farming village. An open savannah teeming with wildlife. It was always somewhere new, somewhere wonderful, somewhere wild and mysterious and achingly beautiful. She would throw herself into whatever environment he bestowed on her, peppering him with questions, half astounded that he always had answers and half afraid that he would run out of them.

It was...heaven. Pure heaven. Those stolen hours were the only light and color and life in her stolid existence. She wondered if somehow he knew that, was almost certain he did. He must have. He never once suggested they stay in the parlor and pour over notes and study texts. She'd asked him about it one day, as they sat in the grass of the upper steppes to the north and watched clear, cold water spilling down a mountainside.

_"Aren't we ever going to just..._study_?"_

_He wore a small smile, absorbed in admiring a dandelion. "We_ are _studying."_

_"No," she insisted, a slight depression stealing over her. "You know what I mean. We never stay in the parlor..."_

_He looked at her then, with those clear grey eyes. "Do you want to?"_

_"NO." The heat in her immediate reply surprised her, and she paused to reflect. "But, I mean...I do have tests I need to pass..."_

_"You can pass the tests," he replied with complete assurance. "You're plenty smart enough. Your only hindrance is that you're bored."_

_She stared at him, thunderstruck. "Bored?" It was, she instantly realized, completely and utterly true. _

_He nodded, grinning at her. After a long moment, she smiled shyly back._

_"_Was_," she said quietly. "I_ was _bored." She was being pulled inexorably into those soft grey eyes. "I'm not anymore."_

_"Good." He took her hand then, and this time instead of leading her elsewhere he just held it as together they watched the waterfall..._

But this day would prove to be different. Pausing for a moment to make sure the mirrorball sang its sweet illusion, Kisuke turned and held out his hand.

"Today," he said in a mysterious tone, "we are going somewhere special."

A thrill trickled down her spine as Yoruichi effortlessly slid her hand into his; it was surprising how natural that felt. As a noble, physical connection of any kind was deeply consternated, especially between the sexes and most _definitely_ between class rankings. And, to her deep disappointment, a repeat of that splendid and mesmerizing night of dancing had been assiduously avoided. It made her almost wonder, in that insecure kind of youthful way, if it was a matter of her own growing feelings not being reciprocated, but she was too shy to ask and comforted herself with the assurance that it was only to avoid another run-in with the SMC that Kisuke kept any physical contact strictly to hand-holding. It had taken her a shockingly short amount of time to find it perfectly normal to fit her hand into that strong grip, the slender, dexterous fingers twining themselves into hers as if they belonged there, and she relished every chance she got.

"What do you mean, _special_!?" she asked eagerly.

"Close your eyes." She glared for a second, but Kisuke's grin just got wider and more secretive, and with a sigh she complied. She'd already learned there was no getting anything out of him when he had that look on his face.

A few puffs of wind against her face, a handful of squirrely twitches through her stomach, and then they halted. Straining her ears, she tried to figure out where they might be, but no whisper of wind came to her, no chirping of birds, no trickling of water. She was surrounded by a complete, total silence that somehow gave her the impression of vastness.

His hand disappeared. She opened her mouth to protest, but felt them returning swiftly to clamp over her eyes. Fighting a grin, she murmured in irritation. "Urahara-san..."

"Just another moment, My Lady." His lips were an inch away from her ear, his warm breath on her neck sending tingles across her flesh. "I want to be sure you get the perfect view..." A slight nudge at her back, and he was guiding her, blind, along rough terrain.

He was also completely wrapped around her, for the first time since his birthday party, his warmth enveloping her senses in a near-embrace that made her suddenly feel vulnerable. Not because she didn't like it, but because she rather instantly realized how much she'd missed that tangible, tingling energy that seemed to increase between them every time they met. On top of that, with her eyes covered, she was utterly at his mercy. She stiffened in unease, her hands flying up to grip his forearms. "_Stop_ it...!"

He sensed her sudden discomfort and halted, but the hands remained on her face. "Easy - it's okay. I'll lead you true." A pause; when his soft voice warmed her ear again, there was curiosity and a hint of sadness in it. "Don't you trust me?" A bolt of lightning shot through her abdomen; it felt like his voice was vibrating all the way through her body. She realized there was an echo of insecurity in the tone, and for the first time she allowed herself to hope that he'd wanted to be close to her as much as she had over the past months.

Yoruichi was surprised to find herself answering automatically, effortlessly. "Of course I trust you."

She was considerably more surprised to realize it was true.

She could feel the smile on his face as they started to move forward again, and while she kept her hands on his arms to steady herself, she allowed him to guide her without further protest. As before, their bodies effortlessly moved together, responding to each other as if of one mind. They walked for a moment or two, just long enough for his warmth to seep across her skin and all the way through her, before he finally halted and removed his hands from her eyes, stepping back. For a split-second, she felt painfully bereft.

"Open your eyes."

She did, her gasp almost instantaneous. They were standing in the middle of an enormous cavern; amber rocks in twisted forms dotted the expanse like little soldiers waiting for orders. The roof seemed to disappear above them, littered with pointy stalactites, warmly lit by an unseen source. It was breathtaking and rugged and _gorgeous_. She whirled around to look at Kisuke with wide eyes. "Where are we?"

"It's our own secret hideaway," he grinned, sharing his treasure with her. "We can do _anything_ here - study, train, whatever! What's even better," he hooted, dancing around her. "It's completely shielded - not a drop of reiatsu will be felt outside, so we don't have to worry about Isshin showing up or _anything_! Shihouin-san," he said, using the common address with her for the first time, "_here we can find our zanpaktous!_"

Yoruichi froze. They were only first-year students, even though the year was mostly completed; zanpaktou training wasn't supposed to begin for another year at least...they were only just starting to grasp kido, to understand and control the spirit energy that ran through them. Finding one's zanpaktou was hard and dangerous and unpredictable, fraught with peril. And this boy, her contemporary in age, was suggesting they access that power alone, unsupervised...

She was horrified. And, if she was honest with herself, more than a bit thrilled. Something occurred to her then, a sudden memory of a kido shield that should have been far outside the ability of a first-year. In a sudden flash of realization, she glared at him

"You've already started, haven't you?"

For once, he looked surprised. Then, an instant later, a little sad. Regarding her somberly, after a long moment Kisuke nodded.

Impossible. Utterly impossible. _No one_ accessed their zanpaktou without a guide, without knowing how, without using the well-established techniques of properly releasing a soulsource...but she looked at the cautious look on his face, the one she'd seen him wear in classrooms when he was trying so hard not to flaunt his genius...and knew that he had once again exceeded all precedent.

With a wrench, she realized how similar they were. Both so much more than their superiors thought possible. Both so much more than they were allowed to be publically. Both burning with potential that was overlooked. And both, for reasons of their own, cautious of revealing their true depths.

To anyone but each other. She hated him for a moment, at the same time a warm feeling of connection spread through her. She struggled with a brief panic at the thought of him moving too fast, too far ahead of her, of him leaving her behind...

"Show me," she demanded.

He hesitated. Then, slowly, he reached into his hakama and pulled out a katana.

It was sealed. It was unnamed, even she could see that. But it was a zanpaktou, for sure. She could feel the essence humming off of it. For a second she was overcome with a wash of intense jealousy.

But then she swallowed, hard, firmly reminding herself that she was Shihouin and not without a few surprises of her own. "Well, if you expect us to play, then you'd better have a practice sword with you."

He looked pained. "I do, but..."

"But nothing," she cut him off abruptly. "I'm still light-years faster than you, and if you've already started then I can't be that far off." It had to be so. She wasn't about to lose the only real friend she had to personal incompetence. She upped the wattage of her glare. "Don't _even_ think about underestimating me."

Slowly, the smile came back to Urahara's face as he pulled out an asauchi and deftly tossed it at her. "My Lady," he bowed formally, bringing his sword around into form. "I wouldn't dream of it."

They fought. For hours. She was definitely faster than him, her speed challenging him at every turn, and while neither one of them were brought up short by her superior fighting skills in general, she surprised both of them by meeting his sword strike for strike. Maybe she really was only a step behind him. Maybe her sheer stubbornness forced the sword into being. Maybe he was going easy on her, although she strongly doubted that. Whatever the reason, by the time they halted, panting and grimy, they both could tell that there was life in her sword. Small, flickering, an ember waiting to be breathed into flame. But life nonetheless.

"Well," he gasped, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "I think that 'lesson' went very well." With a grin she couldn't help but return, he turned and started to walk away from her.

Pushing herself up off the rock she'd been leaning against, she stumbled after him as he rounded out of sight behind a large outcropping. "Where are you going?" After a moment, when he didn't answer, she quickened her steps in curiosity.

Rounding the rock formation behind which he'd disappeared, Yoruichi stopped in her tracks, her mouth dropping open in a very unglamorous gape. In front of her was a steaming and bubbling pool, a natural hot-springs, its languid steam curling invitingly. Kisuke was standing at the edge, grinning at her.

He was naked as the day was long. She absently wondered how he'd gotten undressed so quickly.

"Relaxation time," he replied, and without a hint of modesty he turned and waded into the pool.

She felt breath returning to her the second he was waist-deep in water, absently noticing that he was rambling on about the healing properties of the minerals in the water, but for once she didn't pay a lick of attention to what he was trying to teach her. She couldn't even begin to untangle what was going through her, but it had an odd resonance with a little dance in a crowded room. She was offended, thrilled, excited, terrified...and a whole host of other things that brought an instant flush to her mortified face.

Settling into the steaming water on the far side of the pool, Kisuke leaned up against a rock, threw his arms out and sighed. "Come on in - you won't want to feel it tomorrow if you don't loosen those muscles up."

Yoruichi gaped at him in consternation. "I can't - I don't have a swimsuit."

He grinned that insufferable grin. "Don't need one."

She glared at him fit to peel the skin off his bones. An interesting metaphor, considering how much of his skin she could actually see at the moment... "Don't be absurd."

"Suit yourself." Without another word, he leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing luxuriantly.

Yoruichi was galvanized into silence, furious and totally aware that only a fool would pass up a hot steam after a hard workout. She had the sneaking suspicion Urahara he knew it too and was calmly waiting for her to give in. She fumed for long moments, putting in a good show of reluctance before flouncing to the edge of the spring. Gingerly, she sat down and let her feet trail into the water. She tried to look everywhere but in his direction and berated herself for how difficult it was not to allow a surreptitious eye full.

_Damn, it felt good_...she could feel the steaming water pulling aches and tension out of her ankles and calves. Her whole body was screaming for similar relief, but she hesitated a bit longer on principle. Suspicious, she watched Kisuke for a long time. He never once peeked an eye open.

Finally, firming her resolve and making sure he didn't so much as flinch, Yoruichi slid out of her clothes with a swiftness born of sheer terror and slipped into the water.

She could swear his smile twitched a hair higher but to his credit his eyes stayed shut. After long moments, she too closed her eyes, leaned back and let the hot water soothe her.

It took her quite some time to realize that she was waiting for him to swim over and kiss her. It was considerably harder to realize, finally, that he wasn't going to.

After what seemed like an eternity of seething tension that had nothing to do with sore muscles, subtle splashing noises drew her eyes open. Kisuke was climbing unabashedly out of the hot spring. Yoruichi hated herself for looking, but she could have sooner stopped the sun in the sky than turn her gaze. Her breath seemed to burn in her lungs as she took in the rippling muscles of his back, skin dripping wet and steaming in the cool air; his legs were equally muscular, lean and long...and don't even get her _started_ on the bits in between. The temperature of the water seemed almost cool against her fiery skin.

He took his time getting dressed, as if he knew she was watching him. Finally, as he swung his robe around his shoulders to her guilty disappointment, he turned and addressed her casually, his eyes respectfully averted.

"Better get a move on - the time is later than it seems down here, and you won't want to have to explain to your mother why you're all pruney." With that, he turned and rounded the boulder, granting her her privacy.

At the reminder of her imminent return to the Shihouin hell, she nearly sickened with bathos. Feeling thoroughly spurned - and not sure if she hated Kisuke or herself more for it - Yoruichi launched herself out of the water and hastily dressed, wrapping cloth and hurt around herself until she had all but resumed her old, harsh demeanor. Trying to understand why she felt as if she'd been slapped in the face, she quickly hid sudden tears and joined him on the other side of the rocks with a cold remoteness.

He watched her approach with a burning gaze she that she was too upset to decipher, and when she refused to meet his eyes he silently took her hand and flashed.

In moments they were back in the parlor, and without a word she turned and started to walk away.

His hand on her arm stopped her, pulling her around to face him. Before she could even start to ream him out, he kissed her.

It was slow, almost hesitant. He tasted like fresh rain, his lips velvety against hers, his tongue silken and feather-light. He was holding her ever so gently, as if she was made of glass and he was afraid he might break her. For her part, Yoruichi felt as if she would shatter any moment. After an endless moment of the tremulous, delicate heat of his mouth on hers, they drifted apart, eyes gazing into each other from mere inches away; she didn't know what her eyes told him, but his gleamed with something approaching awe.

"Yoruichi, the dinner bell has rung twice-"

They were already drifting apart when her mother entered the room but were still much too close for sharp eyes to make any mistake about what must have been going on. And Madame Shihouin's eyes were very, very sharp indeed. The dowager trailed off, her gaze knowingly searing them both and her expression ugly as an uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.

"Yes," said Yoruichi, a hair too loudly, too quick. "We are quite finished here. Next week, then." She didn't dare even look in his direction.

Urahara started his normal reply, but Madame Shihouin spoke up instead.

"That will not be necessary." Her imperious voice rang through the room, somber as a death-knoll. "Seeing as your latest grades were more than satisfactory, I cannot image you require any further tutoring." Her tone dipped into leaden irony as she addressed the lanky boy with barely-concealed contempt. "You have done quite enough for this family, I think. We release your services. No doubt they will be welcomed elsewhere."

Yoruichi wanted to die. Or scream. Or slap her mother across the face..._something_. But she didn't. Frozen by the scathing knowledge that any action on her part would only make things worse - for Kisuke even more than for her - she trembled, her eyes pinned to the floor, and stayed silent.

"Your Ladyship," Urahara bowed, fielding the insulting dismissive admirably. "It has been my pleasure." Turning, he looked at Yoruichi in a way that was gut-wrenchingly bland. Meeting his eyes and barely concealing her torment, she felt something deep within her howl. "I am honored to have been of service, My Lady." With another formal bow, he flicked and was gone.

Yoruichi felt a sudden wave of madness crowding in as her chest twinged painfully. Turning, she lasered her mother with a look.

Her mother glared back, not having any of it. "It is time for dinner. The Duke is expecting us." And her mother waited, silently, for the inevitable.

The inevitable came too quickly, the fight evaporating within moments. He was gone. And with him, her only joy in life. The shock of that realization rendered her nearly senseless...

And there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

With a feeling like death itself, Yoruichi nodded miserably and followed her mother out of the parlor with as much dignity as she could muster.


	9. Fulmination

_Urahara Kisuke was rather fascinated to find himself moderately depressed._

It was a remarkable experience, really, seeing as he had never been so before. Not that he had lived all that long by afterlife standards, but fostered as he was by his large and gregarious family, he'd always been effervescent and cheerful and unswervingly optimistic. Indeed, the 'family' that had adopted him upon his entry to Soul Society had attacked everything, be it feast or famine, birth or blight, with a sort of jubilant glee that he very quickly assimilated into his personality. Add to that his incomparably brilliant mind and it was no wonder he had achieved such a charisma as to draw great attention from the Gotei leaders and his Academy senseis. For Kisuke not only learned everything quickly and perfectly, but he reveled in every second of it, his eagerness never seeming to slacken. Though most of his fellow students shunned him, peers being what they are and generally unappreciative of being so effortlessly out shined, it was clear to every teaching and ruling mind of Sereitei that this young man seethed with promise and potential.

A judgment that he'd readily accepted and easily met. Kisuke's youth had showed him that the world was bright and open, his genius had made excellence rather effortlessly achievable, so that for Urahara the sky seemed the limit to his every endeavor. Upon entering the Academy he'd felt that nothing was beyond his grasp. And in all fairness to his blithe arrogance, nothing indeed had been.

Until now.

Though generally not given to brooding, Kisuke's tenacious mind tended to work a problem over and over until it was solved, wrestling pearls of truth and discovery out of the most reluctant of oysters. So it should not have been surprising that he spent weeks playing over and over his swift dismissal by Dame Shihouin, the mortified look worn by the Lady Yoruichi, and his own sinking heart as fate slammed the door shut in his face.

Had it only been weeks? It felt like half a lifetime. An oddity worth noting.

Urahara was nothing if not brutally honest with everyone and everything, no less with himself. He had known they'd been running on borrowed time. Yoruichi was a noble. He was a commoner. They had been breaking the 'rules' of society, and Kisuke had had more than sufficient experience bucking the constraints of the Academic framework to know what such an uprising would engender. Going up against a noble house had been inciting nothing less than the very exile that had been passed on him all those weeks ago.

It was the first time ever on this plane of existence that he'd been weighed and measured and found wanting. That it was for a factor utterly beyond his control - his 'commoner' status - nearly drove him insane.

This presented a unique challenge, and if there was one thing Kisuke loved more than discovery, it was a problem to fix. Every problem had a solution and in this case the solution should have been simple - all he had to do was walk away.

But that was the one thing he _couldn't_ do_._ Yes, he had been dismissed in the very manner he could have expected for his presumption. And, with completely understandable solidarity, the Lady Yoruichi had stood by and said nothing, refusing to disobey her parent's stricture and allowing the inevitable to occur. None of that surprised him.

What did surprise him, what had eaten away at him week after week, was the look in her eyes when he left.

Kisuke could recall with perfect clarity the trembling in the lithe limbs of the young noblewoman, the flush on her cheeks, the look on her face. He could even, at times, convince himself that there had been tears in the corner of her breathtaking eyes. She had been upset...possibly even _horrified_ at the knowledge that she would not see him again. And that had cut him deeper than he had expected.

Even if he were to empirically disregard the obvious chemistry that had sprung up between them, at the very basest of conclusions he had found a kindred spirit in the noblewoman. That was something he had never hoped to discover, much less in a pure-birthed noble. For his part, it had taken all of his resolve to leave, as leave he must; after all, he knew all too well that there was nothing he could do in the face of noble judgment, that even a brilliantly laid argument would have accomplished nothing except possibly to worsen the situation. But to leave that place was to abandon a sparkling mind, an expansive imagination, a fierce heart that loved discovery and yearned for understanding and accomplishment and freedom just as much as he did, to a prison of mindless duty.

And that tore him apart.

The final, cruel twist lay in the fact that he still saw her every day. They still attended the same Academy, but by unspoken agreement they seamlessly kept up their facade of ignonimity whenever in public. It was easy; Yoruichi generally treated everyone as if they were beneath her notice, and Kisuke was branded with every social stigma generally heaped onto the exceptionally brilliant. It took little effort for her to ignore him or belittle him or treat him like dirt, and it was likewise effortless for him to calmly field the cold dismissiveness as if he expected nothing else. Effortless but for the sting in his chest as he walked away, his eyes burning with the sight of her...it was never enough.

A feeling she must have shared. Kisuke couldn't help but notice, as the school year drew along, that their paths crossed more and more often. The bittersweet encounters slowly morphed into quite the little game with each other - to see if they could take a route to class or training session that would put them squarely in each other's path. And considering how often it worked, he firmly entertained the conclusion that she was making similar efforts to see him, no matter how surreptitiously.

It always played out the same way, albeit in infinite variation; he would bow, with casual perfection that nonetheless managed to border on insipid, and she would either mock him, insult him or ignore him completely. He was never quite sure what she took away from the brutal exchanges...but Kisuke knew the little rejoinders always left him feeling lighter than air, an indefinable warmth stretching through the expanse of his chest. The rest of his day would be all the brighter for their tete a tete.

Had he been more accustomed to the sensation, he would have recognized it for what it was.

But the school year had waned, and with it any chance of a possible glimpse of his latest - and arguably deepest - obsession. As the year-end activities kicked up and the long summer break loomed, even Kisuke's roommate seemed to lose patience with him.

"Quit moping, dammit," Isshin growled.

"I am not moping," Kisuke formally protested. "I'm thinking."

"Thinking about something you can't have is called 'moping'," Isshin replied, in his most authoritative voice. And also hypocritical, given that it was issued from the greatest academy Lothario since Kyouraku Shunsui; Isshin had yet to meet the lithe young thing he couldn't winkle into his bed. A practice that had been little exercised in the last few weeks, the strain of which seemed to be stretching Isshin's already dubious tolerance. He seemed decidedly insatiate. "Why don't you go get lost in an experiment or something? Anything other than stinking up the place - that long face of yours is affecting my love life."

Kisuke snorted, a tiny smile creeping into his expression. That much was true, he had to admit - on more than one occasion over the last few weeks, Isshin had brought home some young and giggly thing or other, only to have the soft-hearted maidens go emotionally Florence Nightingaley over the pining, blond roommate. Hell, it was enough to make any virile young man go crazy, much less a Kurosaki who was already halfway there, and if Kisuke wasn't already hopelessly smitten he would have relished the female attention and the chance to irritate his roomie.

The afterlife has a cruel sense of irony, it seems.

Kisuke stood and stretched, noting as he did so that he was, indeed, stinking up the place. Literally. "All my assignments are done for the semester," he protested dispassionately. How was it that a genius like himself couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a bath...?

"And a week before graduation, at that," Kurosaki glared. "Who the hell turns in work early?? Bah, go make something up then," he ordered. "I've got a date tonight and if this one doesn't take I swear I'll have to sneak off to the real world to find any action at all. You're downright depressing."

Not one to stand in the way of intimate excursions, Kisuke decided to ignore his own olfactory pungency and head for the labs for a while. No one else would be haunting the science building at this time of night anyway, as most students were indeed cramming for their final exams, and who knows - maybe he could get absorbed enough to ignore the ache in his chest for a bit. He'd managed it a few times since his perfunctory expulsion from the Shihouin mansion, and any relief was welcome as long as he ignored the fact that the pain would eventually return stronger than before. _Gods, this sucks_...

He decided right there and then that, were it ever up to him, he would never fall in love again.

Kisuke smothered a sigh and rose, grabbing one of his favorite lab coats and ambling for the door. "Yeah, sure. I'm certain I could find some project or other to work on." And he could mope anywhere, really; far be it from him to cock-block his roommate any more than necessary.

"Good. You do that." Kurosaki was already shoving Kisuke towards the door, kicking the mess on the floor into the closet along the way and effectively erasing any evidence of his roommate. An eager grin streaked his scruffy face. "See if you can find an experiment that will show you how to get your balls back." One last shove and the door slammed in Kisuke's face.

Oddly enough, he felt somewhat better for the exchange, and it was with a slight chuckle and a lighter step that Urahara headed over to the science buildings for what promised to be a long and uneventful night in the labs.

Instead, he was greeted at the entranceway to the building by a brightly hued flash and an ear-shattering explosion.

Having caused one or two explosions of his own in his time, Kisuke quickly pinpointed the most likely location and took off for the epicenter of the eruption. His brain was already examining the volume, tone and reverberation of the event, isolating probable causes, while another part of him was absently wondering who the hell else would be haunting the labs this time of night, during exams week no less.

As he approached the haze-filled hallway leading to the chemistry rooms, he sniffed the billowing cloud of smoke for the more common incendiary elements (_Potassium perchlorate, Strontium carbonate, Pine root pitch...and was that a hint of Rice starch_?). Hurtling headlong into the lab, he scanned the room quickly for casualties.

All he saw was spiky black hair, impossibly blue eyes and a gloriously displayed cleavage that even Yoruichi would have been jealous of.

Eyes watering, Kisuke tried not to choke. "Are you okay?" he gasped.

"NO, I am not okay," replied the blue eyes flashing restlessly in the pretty - if annoyed - face. "That was _blue_. _Only_ blue - not cobalt, not azure. Hell, I would settle for _cerulean_ for gods sake - anything but just _blue_." The buxom beauty swung around angrily in her chair and started yanking bottles of powdered substances off the shelves. "How the hell am I supposed to fill the sky with sea turtles if I can't get decent ocean colors!?"

She continued muttering to herself while Kisuke grappled to make sense of the situation. _So, she_ wanted _the explosion? Why does the color matter...and sea turtles?! In the sky...?_ Pieces started clicking together, and by the time he glanced at her skirts he already knew the swirling pattern he would find embroidered there.

"You're a Shiba." He grinned. It wasn't a question. "You're inventing new fireworks."

The girl turned and looked at him with an answering look of incredulity. "Well, _duh_. What are you, stupid or something?"

"Depends on who you ask," he replied blithely, instantly finding himself in a much better mood than he had been in in weeks. Kisuke sidled up to the work bench. "You're going for cerulean...?"

The vixen snorted, rubbing at a small burn on her muscular right arm. "Well, yes. I _must_ have a color no one has seen before. My parents are letting me do the oceanic portion of this year's graduation festival, and I need a _show stopper_." She continued to sprinkle a pinch of this and a snuff of that into her concoction. "I'm to enter the Academy next year, the first Shiba ever granted entrance - and even though we're one of the _last_ noble houses to be allowed in, I want to be sure we're remembered!!" A feral grin lit the girl's face; rubbing a tiny taste of her latest brew across her lips, she grimaced.

Surreptitiously, Kisuke started pulling powders off the shelves, but noticing the motion the mercurial girl snapped. "Hey, who said you could help?! No damn way am I letting out any of the family secrets..." Her jaw snapped shut as Kisuke sprinkled a minuscule amount of one last element into the small dish and, with an infinitesimal application of kido, produced a brief flash of explosion - in just the color she was seeking.

Dumbfounded, the Shiba girl look at him in half-delight, half-fury. Finally sliding into an eager grin, she gripped his arm painfully.

"You _will_ teach me what you just did." She gasped. "I'm Kuukaku, by the way."

Kisuke laughed for the first time in weeks and started showing her the chemical he selected. "You've got to be sure to keep it within the CuCl emitters," he explained, launching them into a heated debate on the differences between chemical compositions and spectral factors.

"You're using _kido_ to control the chromaticity..!?"

"Why not? The emissivities of many refractory metals and metal oxides are higher in the short wavelength end of the visible spectrum, so they look bluer than expected when heated..."

_"How the hell did you know that!?"_

He was lucky he only got decked a few times - the girl could HIT!

Many hours - and color variations - later, they were both covered in black smudges, more than a few bruises, and Kuukaku had brazenly lit some kind of smoking device that could not possibly be safe around the elements they were using.

"I don't know how you know all this stuff - only Shibas know how to combine kido with chemical elements for the best effects - but you'd better _believe_ I'm going to get it all out of you, you freakin' albino." He good-natured bandary slipped for a moment as she cocked her head suspiciously at him, the smoking pipe hanging from her full lips. "Are you some kind of spy?"

Urahara guffawed, wiping smoke tears out of his eyes and further smearing his mucky face. "As if. That would be a Shihouin trait, and I am hardly one of theirs." It came out sadder, more bittersweet than he intended, and the Shiba's glance sharpened for a moment although she said nothing.

"Well, whoever you are, you're SO going to be my lab partner next year." Kuukaku stuck out her hand, gripping his tightly and forcing him to shake on it.

_She grips like a damn man_..."I'm Urahara Kisuke," he managed, hiding his wince. "And I can't study with you next year."

"Why not?" She frowned in a way that made him wonder if all noblewomen practiced the same facial expressions.

"I won't be here next year." He replied. "I graduate next week, at the end of the term." At her predictable - yet somehow rather masculine, even though it did not detract from her prettiness - pout, Kisuke moved quickly to distract her. "But I'll be more than happy to teach you while I'm here..."

Snaking an arm around in front of her and trying not to brush her bosom while he reached for the potassium perchlorate, a tiny motion caught his eye and he finally saw the cat.

Kisuke froze. As if the presence of a black alley cat in a laboratory hallway wasn't enough of a clue, his stomach instantly took a dive for his toes, a sense of 'oh shit' washing over him. If he had any doubt - or disbelief - over the power signature that was washing off the feline observer, they vanished along with the kitty in a wave of kido.

"_Fuck_." Half a heartbeat later and without another thought he was flashing after her.


	10. Release

_Well..._that _didn't work._

He'd chased her. Honestly, he had. As best as anyone who wasn't as demonically fast as she was could possibly have done. All in all, Kisuke thought he'd made a pretty good showing for himself, managing to follow her at the very least even if it was at a pathetically wide distance. Despite his complete bafflement at how his lovely former student had managed to wrestle herself into such a diminutive and unlikely vessel, he _knew_ it was her - the power signature washing off the alley cat had been unmistakable - and he'd a pretty damn good idea where she was going. It hadn't taken all of his intelligence to flit in the direction of the Shihouin manse, egged on by the occasional wisp of lingering reiastu and feminine ire.

What he hadn't expected was the titanium-hard shield he'd run into, just a few blocks away from her home, nor the way it had smacked of her spirit-power and reminded him wryly of a similar shield he'd managed to slam around her not too long ago. Rubbing his nose and gazing into the distance, at the rooftops and spires of the stronghold into which she was no doubt now safely interred, he'd grimly reminded himself what a damn quick study she was. In the end, it was his fault for showing her a shield in the first place and introducing to her the idea that someone of their still-untapped potential could manage one. Completely stymied, he'd waited until nearly sunrise before reluctantly turning around and heading back.

He'd hoped, at the very least, that she would come out and talk to him. But she hadn't, and as much as that disappointment stung it still left him contemplating the possibility that his association with another attractive noble had inspired such a deep hurt in his former student...former friend...and that indicated - what? A similar regard at worst, and at best...

...a complimentary affection? What else could inspire such a massive reaction on her part, that she would not even grant him the chance to explain? Friendship alone could not explain it. And that meant...

That meant the very possibility of the impossible. And there were few things Kisuke found more difficult to ignore.

Not that there was a dearth of distractions. Graduation had gone off without a hitch - and without so much of a glimpse of the one person he'd wished to see - and when formality melted into celebration and the night sky filled with colored explosions of arcing figures such as only the Shiba could manage, he'd reveled into the tiny, black cat figure that he'd convinced Kuukaku to sneak into the assembly, as some sign of his mollification. Kuukaku had protested, eventually capitulating only after he'd brought to bear all of his charm and further promised to help her ace every single one of her classes the next year, but the hoped-for conciliation he'd wished to prompt from Yoruichi had never materialized. He'd graduated, along with dozens of other shinigami albeit the only one to graduate so quickly, and in no surprise whatsoever had been welcomed into the lower levels of the Twelfth Squad with open arms.

And so he threw himself in an almost fervid manner into his experiments, now that he had every opportunity and means available in Sereitei to follow his imagination and chase whatever theory he wished. And what he wished, more than anything, was to find a way to make the difference in status between himself and the nobles irrelevant.

Kisuke was not stupid; he knew that the only place in Sereitei where such equality existed was in the Goeti 13. He further knew, empirically, that it would be immensely challenging to achieve military excellence and that there was only _one_ way to excel to such a position as to become a presence of note. He also knew that it was supposed to take decades of work as a full-fledged shinigami to achieve bankai, even longer to master it, and that the accomplishment of either did not guarantee Captain status. Nor, for that matter, would a successful Captaincy catapult him as far up into the heavens as to reach the noble stratosphere.

But he had nothing to lose by trying. And he owed it to Yoruichi - hell, he owed it to _both_ of them - to become the best he could be. To reach for a sky without limits...

But _decades_...now, that just wouldn't do. There _had_ to be a better way to reach bankai. A _faster_ way...

And so he spent hours and hours in cold, dusty corners of archives doing whatever research one could do on a subject considered completely anathema to discuss, much less document. Captains never, _ever_ talked about their bankais with their own peers much less to subordinates, and the method of achieving such power was shrouded in mystery. But in the end, all those moldy scrolls could not keep their precious secrets from a mind that shone like the sun, and slowly but surely Kisuke started to pry concepts, hints, suggestions from long-forgotten tomes. He was an intellectual pearl-diver prying jewels of knowledge and hints of theory out of the most stubborn, oysteric minds of eons past.

And it was on these thinnest of threads that he started to weave his experiments, the secret ones he went to great lengths to hide from his superiors.

It was almost enough to ignore how much he missed Yoruichi. Gods, how he missed her.

Once, alone in his sparse Squad room, he even pulled out his mirrorball and pinged it on, drinking in the sight of her for long moments before the ache in his chest made him turn it off again. That complacent, benign version of Yoruichi had nothing to do with the inquisitive, brilliantly alive vixen with which he'd stolen so much time, the one he'd probably left hurt and confused with no way to explain, and the banal indulgence only left him feeling emptier than before.

He tried to find her in Sereitei, during those times when his heart was heaviest. It was an exercise in futility, and he knew it; a member of the Shihouin clan was by extension a member of the SMC, and they were _never_ found unless they wanted to be. Even if he had come to the conclusion that her hurt behavior from months before must in some way prove that she _did_ care about him, their paths never crossed, and before too long the intense loneliness started to settle in. Knowing that somewhere lost in the forms and functions of the Shihouin clan, she probably felt just as lonely as he did only made everything worse, and sooner or later he would trudge back to his laboratories and start churning away at another theoretical thread, throwing himself mercilessly into his research until the endless hours of night turned slowly to dawn. After months of worry and heartache and sleep-deprivation, his health took a noticeable decline.

It was in just such a contemplative state of exhaustion that Urahara found himself one day passing a long wait at Fourth squad lost in thought. He didn't even register an inquisitive presence until a quiet, thin cough roused his attention.

"Good gods, are you still here?" Kisuke looked up in surprise to see the slender, noble figure of Ukitake Jyuushirou standing in the waiting room doorway. "You've been sitting there for hours."

"Ukitake-taicho," Kisuke swiftly rose to offer a proper prostration. "My apologies, I did not hear you enter. It was not my intention to be rude..."

Ukitake smoothly swept aside the gesture, taking another step into the room and regarding him with mild concern. "No offense, of course, but I am appalled that you have been kept waiting so long. Why, you were here when I arrived this morning and it is nearly time for tea." Dark brows furrowed in consternation. "Thoroughly unacceptable. Come with me, I will make sure you are properly attended." Ukitake turned slightly and gestured for Kisuke to follow.

Kisuke hurried to match his pace, quick to set the captain to rights. "Thank you, sir, but I am not unwell. I'm simply picking up supplies for Twelfth..."

"Ah. For some grand experiment, no doubt." Ukitake's eyes were twinkling as he changed course, gliding down hallways as if he knew the layout by heart. Which, in all fairness, he probably did.

"Yes, sir." Urahara was in no position whatsoever to discuss what had really been occupying his mind. "Truly, I am in no hurry, there is no need to inconvenience yourself."

"Not at all, boy," Ukitake's expression warmed into a grin. "I have heard your name a great deal but have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you. You must permit me the indulgence." He eyeballed the lanky figure striding alongside him thoughtfully, producing another smile. "You are...well described."

Kisuke didn't even want to know what that meant; honestly, there were so many rumors about him floating around Sereitei by now that he hardly had time to keep track of them all. Nor did he much care. He did find it hard to believe, though, that Ukitake-taicho might be the kind to judge a person on mere rumor...? A quick glimpse told him that Ukitake's grin was a bit on the wry side, so Urahara felt safe in offering a slightly sarcastic smile in return.

"I can only imagine, sir. No doubt you half expected to find me with three heads and a tail."

"Nonsense, you are being far too modest," Ukitake returned, seeming to enjoy the exchange. "Although I am sorely disappointed to see that your horns appear to be missing..."

Kisuke instantly felt at ease, and allowed his grin to break freely across his face. "I must have left them at home, sir. I won't be so careless in the future."

"See that you don't," replied Ukitake in mock seriousness. "After all, I might make the mistake of treating you like a normal person and that would hardly do, now would it?"

They were briefly interrupted as Ukitake came across a Third Seat and, handing her Urahara's list of needed supplies, sent her off with a kind request that nonetheless had the girl scurrying to obey. That problem settled, Ukitake turned and faced Kisuke. "There - you should have your supplies in no time. Although," he made a small show of examining him closely. "Are you sure you aren't feeling unwell? You look rather haggard. They aren't pushing you too hard at Twelfth, are they?"

"No, sir," Kisuke replied quickly. Despite the unexpected camaraderie, he wasn't about to go into what was really bothering him. "Thank you for your concern, but I do not require medical attention."

Ukitake's brown eyes were unsettlingly sharp, for just the briefest of moments. "No," he said slowly. "I dare say there is nothing _medical_ wrong with you at all." Before Kisuke could start to unravel the contemplative tone of his voice, the captain was all smiles again. "My apologies if I am intruding on some grand invention or complex speculation. I will leave you to your deep thoughts." Ukitake's eyes twinkled for a moment, and then he turned and strode away. "My deepest gratitude for your time, Urahara Kisuke. I dare say it will be interesting to see what you make of yourself in the future."

A few more steps of that careful, deliberate stride and he was gone.

* * *

And so it was that Urahara Kisuke found himself huddled in his secret cavern mentally dissecting an interaction that, for once in the past months, had nothing whatsoever to do with Shihouin Yoruichi.

It wasn't unusual for Kisuke to spend hours in the huge cave, alone with his thoughts. He'd done it for long years before entering the Academy, when his beloved yet un-intellectual family would weary him with their simpleness. Here, his thoughts had soared long before his sword had sung, and it was to here he always retreated when he needed to escape the complexities of a world he could never quite figure out. What's more, since his unglamorous eviction from Yoruichi's life, he had made a point, every single weekend, to go back to his underground playground, and he wouldn't even pretend that he was doing anything other than waiting for her. Even though he knew the odds of ever seeing her again were impossible and unfathomable by turns, he couldn't think of anything he would rather wait for.

This time, though, he found himself examining his conversation with Ukitake with bemused curiosity. While he couldn't even pretend to understand why the sickly captain had sought him out nor why he had extended such gracious familiarity, one thing Kisuke quickly acknowledged was that he had desperately needed such an interaction. The harsh treatment he had received in the Shihouin parlor had deeply assaulted his self-assurance, something Kisuke had not even thought possible. Nevertheless, Ukitake's feely-offered friendliness had given him reason once more to believe that maybe, just _maybe_, not all nobles were insufferably superior.

And _that_ him missing Yoruichi all over again.

He had only just started down that well-worn mental path when a pop of reiatsu and a whiff of kido swept over him. Surprised, he looked up.

Yoruichi strode past him without a glance in his direction. She swiftly discarded her noble robes, leaving her curvy body clad only in basic black kimono, and hefted her zanpaktou with a flourish.

"You'd better not tell me you've been just sitting here this whole time. I've been training with Okatu-sensei and you'd be phenomenally stupid to underestimate my sword now - there's more life in her than ever."

Kisuke just stared at her, frozen; a thoroughly illogical part of his brain wondered if she was really there or if his burning desire to see her again had summoned a mirage.

Yoruichi quickly dispelled that idea. "You look _awful."_ She cocked her head and gave him a wry grin that didn't fully outshine the haggard lines on her face. If he'd wanted proof that these last weeks had cost her as much torment as he'd endured, all he had to do was take in the drawn shadows in her eyes. Something in his chest eased. "Did you really think I wouldn't find my way back here?" Her eyes were sparkling now, something in their black centers burning; she looked as one might when they'd just been released from prison, if only for a little while.

Kisuke finally found his voice. "What about..." _Don't be stupid, Kisuke - keep it simple_. "What about your mother?" he finally croaked, cursing himself for ten kinds of cowardice.

"Mother is under the distinct impression that I am having tea with a friend. We have several hours, at the least." Yoruichi hefted her zanpaktou, swinging it about with considerably more dexterity than the last time he'd seen her. She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Kisuke rose, hefting his own zanpaktou and dropping expertly into a defensive pose. "And this friend-?" He grunted with the force of her first hit. "You're sure this person can be trusted?"

"Positive." She threw a lightning-quick swing at his head, flicking her wrist at the last second and very nearly removing his left ear. She paused, a slightly congratulatory look on her face at his swift block. "Now, do you want to talk, or do you want to spar?"

He wanted to kiss her, but didn't dare try his luck, and sparring was very nearly as good.

Quite some time later, they were both exhausted but elated; her sword sang with awareness, noticeably more than when they'd started, and Kisuke couldn't help but feel that the name of his own zanpaktou was on the tip of his tongue. His sharp mind took a moment to note the catalytic effect they seemed to have on each other, as if something deep within each of them pulled the best out of each of them. As if, together, they were not only complete, they were _more_ than a whole...

"So," she purred, interrupting his thoughts with a tone too angelic. "Do you teach any noblewoman you come across, or just the pretty ones with nice racks?"

The energy of their spar dipped into something dangerous. Kisuke responded with a swift flick of his blade towards her right kidney. "I'll teach anyone who wants to learn." The answering nearly-manic series of attacks she threw left him all but breathless. "And why should you care?"

"I _don't_." And yet, it was only a surge of adrenaline and luck that saw Urahara with a nicked neck instead of a severed head.

"Clearly not," he murmured dryly. "Still, you managed an elaborate cover story, lied to your mother and found your way back here to fight _me_ of all people. So, Yoruichi _- why are you here_?"

"To teach you your place, _chozo_," she spat, her face twisted darkly. "And what gives you the right to such insulting familiarity??"

The next few moments were a close call. "Nothing much," he grunted, when he'd finally found a second to breathe. "But I think it might have something to do with the fact that I love you."

Her scream rattled off the walls, her attacks impossibly becoming more furious. Parry, riposte, a few moves that had no names but were laden with death. It took every ounce of his ability to stay in one piece, until finally they ground to a halt, blades locked and faces only a breath away from each other.

Yoruichi's eyes glittered like molten lava. "How dare you? What makes you think I won't kill you for such presumption!?"

"Because," he grated, refusing to back down. "You love me, too. Don't you." It has hardly a question.

He never even saw her next move, but his sword did. Without thought, without hesitation, the reiatsu - _the name -_ erupted out of him.

"_Nake, Benihime_!"

The bloodmist shield would turn out to be the only thing that prevented her from running him through entirely, the shock of materialization throwing them both for a loop. Agog, they both stared at the manifestation, frozen in something akin to disbelief.

Slowly, Yoruichi dropped her offense, reaching out to touch the shield with something akin to reverence. "What is it?" He could feel the feather light touch of her fingertips singing through his veins as she grazed it in awe. "What's it made of?"

He, too, was mesmerized. "Blood," he replied, almost a whisper. "Mine, I think." He didn't know how he knew that, but he knew it as well as his own name.

A long time passed while she stared at it. "It's beautiful," she breathed. Slowly, finally, her golden eyes met his, disarmed and open. "It's also enough for one day, don't you think?"

"Yes, he murmured numbly, a strange lethargy steeling into his limbs. A deep, haunting sensation was thrumming along his veins, to the point where he nearly missed her next words.

"Come on; we've time enough to rid ourselves of the battle grime, ne?"

Nodding dumbly, he followed her.

This time she didn't even flinch at the hot-tubs; shedding their kimonos, they both slipped achingly into the hot water, each sighing in relief as sore muscles slowly relaxed.

Not that all his muscles relaxed; as he had all those many weeks ago, Kisuke found himself concentrating on keeping his body in check. It wasn't easy, with the delicious memory of that one kiss setting his blood on fire. In truth, he had been consternating himself for months for making the advance. The only way he'd held himself back, that last time they shared this pool, was by berated himself mercilessly that she couldn't possibly want him as he did her, that she was a noble and deserved her space and respect due to her position. Not to mention she was probably already promised to someone and due to her breeding had probably not enjoyed the freedom of sexual exploration that was available in Rukongai. Which made him a cad of the first water were he to presume to indulge in any intimacy with the girl...

But then she had emerged flustered from the tubs to join him, her cheeks flushed and eyes averted, and she had been vibrating with hurt. And he'd realized, as he'd taken her hands in his, that she had thought that he hadn't approached her because he hadn't _wanted to_...And he was damned if he was going to be misunderstood again.

Still, here they were in the pool again, and he found himself waiting. Always waiting. He didn't know if it was uncertainty of her feelings for him (though he could hardly believe that he could be mistaken about them at this point) or if it was just his innate need to observe, to gather information, so see what would happen without interference. Whatever it was, he forced himself to breath slowly, to relax as much as possible. To wait.

When the sounds at the other end of the pool indicated her exit, he finally allowed his eyes to drift open. She wasn't looking at him, and he almost smiled at the realization that she was exacting a bit of revenge on him for last time. Quietly, she got dressed, dawdling deliciously. He couldn't keep his eyes off her, although she refused to meet his. When she finally turned, his heart broke open at the unspoken words in her eyes.

Golden eyes pooled in a way that would see him lost forever in their depths. "I'll be back."

In an instant of shunpo, he was standing in front of her. For a long moment, he met her gaze before kissing her.

"I'll be waiting."

Her lips curved in a tiny smile. "And next time, it will be my shikai that gets released, understood?"

He grinned back. "As you wish, my Lady," he replied.

She frowned at him, a glint in her eyes that set his bones on fire. "My Lady?" she smirked, turning and gathering reiatsu. "I think we're just bit beyond that, don't you, _Kisuke_?"

Before he could recover from the shock, or the way his name in that low, husky tone nearly drove him berserk, she was gone.


	11. Truth

_The next time he saw her, nearly a month later, wasn't exactly the_ next _time he saw her._

"You've been spying on me."

Yoruichi paused for the briefest of seconds before continuing to shed her elaborate clan robes, shivering slightly in the cooler air of the cavern. "Have not."

"Oh, really?" That smirk really was damned annoying; she wanted to kiss it right off his face. "Then how come there's been a rash of black kitty sightings in the Twelfth laboratories?" Benihime tapped impatiently against his shoulder while Kisuke tilted his head at her, grin spreading. "You know, taicho has us working on inventing new pest control methods."

She scoffed with gusto. "First of all, nothing _you_ invented could catch me, and secondly - you're just making that up. _No_ one sees me unless I want them to."

"Ahhhh," Kisuke breathed, eyes glinting. "So, you _wanted_ me to see you when I was flirting with that eighth seat last week...?"

Forget kissing it off; _smacking _it off was rapidly becoming preferable. Unslinging her own zanpaktou, she threw him an aloof glare. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"...or when I was getting dressed this morning?" Damnit, no one should have so many teeth!! Urahara was a wolf staring hungrily at his next dinner. "What was _that_ if not spying?"

_Shit_. Yoruichi slipped into her haughtiest moue. "Professional curiosity." It sounded a lot weaker than she'd intended, with a slight hitch at the end that almost made it a question. To her extreme annoyance, her cheeks warmed.

"Well, then." And then he was right next to her, his breath warming her ear. "Perhaps we should skip the sparring and go straight to the hot springs for a...private viewing?"

Noble and feminine pride both demanded nothing short of full ass-kickery for such presumption - not to mention the blatant double-entendre - but damnitall the way he was looking at her...

"About what you said last time." _Oh, nice work, Yoruichi; let's just go from seething sexual tension straight to painfully awkward. Veeeery smooth_. She grit her teeth and glared at him in a vain attempt to regain her dignity.

Silver eyes met hers, unashamed, from centimeters away. "Yes." He waited.

She suppressed a shiver, equal parts dread and anticipation. "You have no idea how complicated this could get."

Kisuke's head tilted closer, lips a breath away from hers. "How complicated _what_ could get?" he whispered.

She should have pushed him away. Or cut his head off. At the very least, turned and walked away. Instead, her hand twitched and before she could tell herself how stupid this was, his fingers were twining into hers, tightening into a grip her traitorous fingers returned. She swallowed. "Kisuke-" Another swallow, far more painful, and why did her eyes want to drift shut? "I mean it. I know your intelligence is off the charts, but the dynamics of nobility are unfathomable for someone like you..." She broke off; how the hell was she supposed to put this?

"You're betrothed." He pulled back slightly, looking serious but not the least put off. Something twinged in her chest, but his gaze demanded honesty.

"Since birth," Yoruichi confirmed, softening into a smirk. "_His_, not mine, by several decades at that, so you don't have to worry about some muscle-bound, jilted fiancé."

"I'm not." Urahara grinned slightly. "So, it's not love then." That searching look was still steeling his eyes even as he pretended to lighten the mood. "Cradle-robbing?"

The look she sent back had been known to singe the eyebrows off of lesser beings. "Nobles may be prudish about many things, but difference in age is one reticence we cannot afford." Her throat tightened into a grating tone she usually reserved for SMC subordinates - she _had_ to make him understand. "My match has been planned and orchestrated for the better part of a millennium. True-births are rare enough as it is, and my betrothed and I are both first-born purebloods to boot. Both of our _very_ powerful families will stop at _nothing_ to make sure this marriage takes place, and they will not hesitate to remove any obstacle." Her breath caught in her throat as she watched his grey eyes darken with the new information rattling along his lightning-fast brain paths. He didn't look nearly as daunted as she's hoped.

"So basically, the risk is enormous. For both of us. Sounds pretty fair to me. Unless…" Kisuke's eyes locked onto hers, more vulnerable than she'd ever seen them. "Unless you feel it's not worth the risk, and you just don't want..."

Just that quickly, the reason for the tightness in her throat shifted. In a blaze of conflicting emotions, Yoruichi drew on him. "It's not a matter of what I _want_. " She spat, making a valiant attempt to sever his head from his shoulders. "_Want_ doesn't enter the picture." She drove him back, half-blind with fury. "Want _never_ enters the picture!" He grunted as his back slammed into a rock, her still-nameless blade grinding into Benihime. "It's called _duty_, Kisuke - and it rules the noble Houses with an iron grip!!" Hoping he couldn't see even half of the desire in her eyes, she growled in his face. "What would a Rukongian mongrel like you know about _that_?"

Without further hesitation, his face darkened into a frown and he started pushing back. "More than you'd think." His sword sung, intoxicating in its lethality, as he answered her arguments with an attack of his own. "What are you suggesting, then? That I should just leave you to your family and your duty? Abandon you to an empty life of rote obedience and loveless marriage-?"

"YES!" she nearly screamed, grinding to a halt, panting like a wild thing. "Didn't you hear what I just said? My family will _kill_ you -" She nearly choked to a halt on the sudden terrifying bundle of emotions that arose at that thought. "You should get as far away from me as possible, you idiot!" Were those tears burning her eyes? _Impossible_ - Shihouin do not cry.

Kisuke stopped too, looking at her with a sadness that nearly broke her. "You know I cannot do that."

For a heartbeat, she stood frozen, staring at him, before she slumped slightly. Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, she screamed silently at him. _I know. That's the damn problem. You're everything I ever wanted, Urahara Kisuke, everything I never hoped to find_... Still panting, she clung to her sanity as despair threatened to overwhelm her. "But neither can I just abandon my duty, Kisuke. Gods, you don't understand how trapped I am." There was no pretending she wasn't crying now, as tears trickled down her smooth cheeks. "Duty has been bred into my bones, and I know nothing stronger..."

_"I do."_ She had no idea how he'd closed the distance, she was too busy leaning into the caress as Kisuke's thumb wiped the tears from her cheek. "Truth." Her eyes widened as she stared at him, dumbstruck. "Truth is stronger than _anything_, Shihouin Yoruichi. Stronger than duty." She half-made to protest, but he overrode her. "Could you honestly do your duty if you knew that the requirements set on you were unjust, or based on falsehood? If you knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that what you were being asked to do was _wrong_?" She made an attempt to jerk away, but Urahara held her tight. "_Answer me_." His forehead ground against hers as he clutched her to him, his gaze burning her alive. "If you can lie to me now, then I swear I will walk away-"

And then there was nothing more to say as her lips crashed into his, her mouth claiming him even as his answering kiss drew all the breath from her lungs. Both swords clattered to the ground as their hands found other things to grasp, feverishly tearing at each other's robes until there was nothing left but heat and skin and each other...

* * *

She wasn't his first, far from. He wasn't her first either, which surprised him, although he was smart enough not to ask. (Years later he'd venture a delicate inquiry, only to be rewarded with a scathing glare and her insistence the Kisuke, of all people, should have known her for a rebellious teenager.) But regardless of any number of encounters he might have had before her, nothing in the afterlife prepared him for the effect this woman would have on him.

He was endlessly fascinated by her, endlessly delighted. If he'd learned early what the comforts of the flesh were, they paled to insignificance at the feel of her body against his, the long, lean swathes of dark, creamy skin he was allowed to explore with impunity. And she was _feisty_ - she never let him get his fill of her without making him work for it, and it wasn't uncommon for them to spend part of their afterglow comparing various scrapes and bruises. Not the least because sparring often found its way incorporated into their foreplay, the training of their powers woven intricately into their lovemaking in a way that was completely addictive, to both of them. There was something ecstatic about being in coitus with someone who could kill you at any moment, and the impetus to pleasure each other into helpless, quivering bundles of exhaustion made any risks well worth the reward.

Speaking of which, the very real threat of discovery only added to the delicious danger of their interactions, although Yoruichi turned out to be something of a genius at finding times to sneak away, unsupervised by her notoriously well-informed family. Her "tea friend" was instrumental in providing an alibi for many an afternoon, and though she never told him who it was, Kisuke was endlessly grateful for the hours they were able to ferret away thanks to the unnamed-person's understanding and generosity.

For Urahara, it was not difficult to get away; he finished experiments faster than anyone else anyway, so free time was available to him, and if he was ever caught sneaking off or questioned about his whereabouts for the hours he was missed, an enigmatic ramble about some scientific theory or other would usually discourage his questioners from further interrogation. Besides, he was just a lower member of the Twelfth, and if his reputation for genius and his various inventions earned him a certain amount of attention, no one really cared what a street rat like him did with his personal time.

Location became an issue; the cave was the most logical place for them to spend any of their time together, but it eventually lost it romanticism and both Kisuke and Yoruichi got restless. Utilizing Isshin's strange reiatsu was out of the question, as the man had to be within an arm's length of whatever shinigami's power he was swamping out, and while Yoruichi definitely had a kinky side she was not exactly an exhibitionist. But Kisuke solved that problem well enough with by weaving elements of Isshin's power signature into a certain type of fabric (which had to be black, for some reason, or it wouldn't work at all), and the resulting cloaks and blankets he was able to fashion hid their reiatsus very nicely...

* * *

While Kisuke was certainly smart enough not to inquire after Yoruichi's presumed sexual experience, she on the other hand was a woman and half-cat besides. The inevitable question shattered the languor of an afternoon hidden in his messy bedroom, limbs in as rumpled a heap as his strewn bedcovers.

Yoruichi stared at him with something between horrid fascination and jealous revulsion.

"You've _what?_?"

"You asked me how many bedmates I'd had before you…."

"_Women_, Kisuke!" she fairly hollered. "I asked how many _women_ you'd been with!!"

He just shrugged, grinning somewhat abashedly. "Do you want full disclosure or not?"

She struggled for a long moment, trying to decide, for once, if she really wanted to hear the answer. He waited, in a way that made her feel foolish for her prudery. Finally, with a tiny pout, she muttered, "Full disclosure."

The lengthy litany sent both delicate eyebrows crawling for her hairline, and by the time Kisuke was done she could have cared less about how many autonyms he'd rattled off; her brain couldn't stop stumbling over the one or two names that had been decidedly _not_ female.

For long moments she stared at him, speechless, before her curiosity took over.

"Kisuke, how does that even…._work?_"

He laughed outright, and with the brevity and clinical bluntness of a scientist, he explained the basic mechanics of the act.

Her eyes bugled to fairly fall out of her head. "And that's…._pleasurable?_"

He grinned widely. "Immensely."

She stiffened, some part of her far more ruffled and jealous of this unexpected development than of any number of straight partners he could have recited. She pulled away from him, trying to exude nonchalance. "So…which do you prefer? Men or women?"

Strong arms wrapped around her stiffened limbs, pulling her insistently close as he drew her against his long, lean body. Nuzzling her neck, he murmured in her ear in a way that send tingles shivering across her skin.

"I prefer _you_." Pulling her around to face him, their eyes locked as he breathed across her lips. "Only you."

And he proceeded, with delicious thoroughness, to prove it.

* * *

Those years were the best of his life. Even after centuries had passed, and he would look back in time and wonder if anything might have been different, that idyllic expanse glittered at him like a pearl, perfect and luminous, a jewel of a memory he would have gone crazy without, at times. And not just for their trysts; the training they accomplished together blew out all precedence, and if before Urahara Kisuke was admired for his intelligence, his swift achievement of power slowly turned the awe into something closer to fear. He lost count of how many Seats tried to get the source of his training out of him, but he was too smart for them and was usually able to write it off as the results of some experiment or other. For her part, Yoruichi climbed the ranks of the SMC faster than anyone had dreamed possible for someone so young, and she too was inevitably regarded with a kind of suspicious reverence, even among her own.

He often wondered, later, if it was the intensity of their bond that contributed to their precipitous climb in strength, but he never did get the change to find out. Catalysts for each other, Yoruichi's shikai had emerged not long after their first time together, and together with her brutal speed she challenged him to even greater heights. Opportunities to sneak away together became harder as the scrutiny of both Squad and House escalated, but still they managed. Yoruichi just got faster and faster, and Kisuke learned to use his intellect in ever more subtle applications, developing a surreptitious talent for cunning that got them out of more than a few scrapes. Such successes only fueled their young egos, and before long Kisuke was hard-pressed to think of a single thing in the universe that could have kept them apart.

Prideful, ambitious thinking, as it turned out. For when it all came crashing down, the only person he could fault, in the end, was himself.


	12. Apogee

_Oh gods oh gods oh gods above be merciful_...

Urahara Kisuke had never been particularly religious. Nor had he ever in his afterlife been truly envious of anything. Now, however, he would have sold his soul for a flash-step that would rival Yoruichi's. At this moment - the world spinning around him as the unfamiliar sensation of panic threatened to burst his lungs - every single second counted.

Kisuke tightened his arms around his burden, willing his grip not to slip, and focused on getting every ounce of speed possible out of his exhausted, terrified body.

_Why won't the world move faster_? he wondered desperately, even as he begged time to go slower. But neither would obey him and as a few more precious moments slipped away, something very close to hysteria rose in his throat.

_Gods above and below, please don't let me be too late_...

The only thing he hadn't done yet was ask Benihime for more speed, but that was the one thing he _couldn't_ do. He hated her nearly as much as he hated himself right now. So he tightened his grip once more and begged mercy from every god he could name as his bloodshot eyes strained for any hint of his destination.

_There_.

As if by magic, the Court of Pure Souls emerged before him, glittering white. Peaceful, serene. Full of slumbering souls completely unaware of the impending tragedy bearing down on its walls.

In a blur of motion, he was up and over and tearing across rooftops.

Grey eyes flickered quickly as he got his bearings; with only the slightest of hitches, he shifted momentum and careened towards the southron rivers.

_Hold on_, he prayed. _Hold on, love. Almost there_...

Kisuke wondered, at the last second, if there were any security measures in place to prevent an unannounced intrusion into an unfamiliar squad compound such as he was about to execute. But as there was no time to answer his own question, he settled for swearing to himself that if there _were_ barriers, he would tear through them bare-handed if he had to.

Turned out he didn't have to; Thirteenth must have felt adequately secure in its location, clustered near the center of the Gotei squads and perched delicately amidst the windings of one of the cooler streams that wended through Sereitei. There was only a basic proximity spell, delicate as a spider's web, the thread-thin strands of kido designed to do little more than make one aware of an outsider's approach. And as fine as this web was woven, there was little doubt as to who the originator of the spell had been, nor whether anyone below a Captain's level would even feel its presence much less its breach...

It burned like fire across Kisuke's skin as he hurtled through it. He only had seconds before an alarm was raised, but seconds were all he needed.

Once inside the compound, he ascertained the brightest spirit source and homed in on it like a heat-seeking missile. In a stunning display of insolence, he dropped out of shunpo into the very middle of the austere private chambers.

"_Ukitake-taicho_!"

Kisuke wondered for a split-second if he would be incinerated on the spot, a fear supported by the sudden and stunning swell of reiatsu in the room. He realized that his posture - the deepest seiza he could manage, forelocks brushing the floorboards - was only serving to obscure his identity. Urahara jerked his head upright before the pale captain before him could loose the spell no doubt hovering on his lips, and before he could scrub the terror off his own face.

Shocked brown eyes met his, an uncharacteristic ferocity melting out of them as Kisuke was recognized and the kido chant died unspoken. "Urahara Kisuke? What is the meaning of this-?"

"_Help her_!" Kisuke prayed that the urgency in his voice would excuse his rudeness, and straightened out of his crouch further to reveal the mangled figure in his arms.

It didn't take more than a moment for Ukitake to see the purple shades glimmering in the blood-soaked hair, or make full sense of Kisuke's words. The teacup that Ukitake held in his hand was swiftly put to plate.

"Good _gods_." Ukitake didn't bother crossing the room, taking it in one flashstep. His robes hadn't even settled to ground before a swift word summoned a hell butterfly. He was already issuing commands as he helped Kisuke gently lower the broken body of Shihouin Yoruichi to the floor. "Unohana-taicho to my personal suite, please. _Immediately_. Do _not_ inform Shunsui." The hellmoth vanished as they got her settled; Ukitake spared a glance at Kisuke's agonized face and his voice softened in reassurance. "Do not worry, boy. Retsu will come quickly, and quietly." He reached out a soothing hand...

And froze. Brown eyes flew open the moment the pale captain touched Kisuke's arm, the older man stilled in shock at the raw, newly-tapped power roiling just below the surface. Too tired and dazed and terrified to attempt any kind of evasion, Urahara locked gazes with the older man and waited for Ukitake to find his voice.

"_Kisuke_," Ukitake breathed, his voice deepened in stupefaction. "_What have you done?_"

It was all Kisuke could do not to fall apart right there. He drew as deep a breath as he could and just barely managed to keep from trembling. "Help her," he croaked miserably, with a tiny, helpless shrug, his expression pleading.

Ukitake's face hardened as the full scope of the situation crashed down on him. "You must go. _Now_, before Unohana arrives."

"But-"

"Silence!" Obeying orders being an automatic reaction for most shinigami, Kisuke's jaw clacked shut as Ukitake continued in a terse growl that brooked no argument. "It will be all I can do to keep this quiet. Unohana's senses are far keener than mine, and there will be questions enough as it is. If you were actually _seen_ here..." He was right. They both knew it. And they could both feel the rapid approach of a warm, soothing strength laced with urgency. "GO."

Agonized, Kisuke rose and gathered reiatsu, managing as he did so to sneak in one last, tender brush of fingers along the blood-encrusted tendrils of merlot hair plastering Yoruichi's forehead. As he prepared shunpo, he caught Ukitake's last, indominable look.

"And Kisuke," The normally warm voice was cold as steel, eyes hard and dark. "I will have questions of my own for you to answer."

With a comprehending nod, hands still covered in Yoruichi's blood, Kisuke managed one last, strangled whisper before disappearing in flash.

"_I'm so sorry_."

Then there was nothing for it but to find the deepest hole possible and wait, and hope and pray. And punish himself with the memory of the unforgivable arrogance that had led them to this moment...

* * *

_With a grunt, Yoruichi barely deflected a blow from a move Kisuke had never tried on her before. Annoyed, she snapped at her zanpaktou._

What the hell was that_?_

_Fur rippling, the Griffin within her managed a derisive snort._ Do not ask me, Princess. This unruly street rat is incapable of fighting in a properly respectful manner_. Griffin had long nursed a thoroughly aristocratic disgust at the variety of sneaky moves Urahara and Benihime dreamed up. He seemed to think that battle was something in which only the noble and deserving should engage, and his fury that someone like Urahara Kisuke could equal him knew no bounds._

All's fair in war_- Another grunt, as she had to drop into her fastest shunpo to keep her kneecap where it was._

And in love?_ Griffin was truly being insufferable; his opinion of her relationship with Kisuke did not bear repeating._

Shut up and fight, would you?_ Yoruichi snapped, taking half a heart-beat to eyeball her lover and sparring partner. There was a blank, slightly feral look to his eyes that he'd never worn before, a smoothness to his motions that signaled a level of communion with his sword that he'd never previously unveiled._ What are they doing?

Princess, Benihime is beneath association,_ Griffin feinted in reply, rippling his eagle wings in agitation._ She is all insinuation and manipulation, and never speaks straight or with honor. I do not know what they are doing_. A series of strikes that had both of them panting with exertion and more than one oozing wound, and Griffin settled into a contemplativeness that was suddenly serious._ Princess...

I know,_ she shot back, her battle senses on full alert and watching Kisuke like he was a live adder._ They're different. Their power level, synchronicity...it's way beyond us_._

_Griffin's golden eyes glittered in her head, his talons sinking into her mind in a way that sharpened her every perception._ Princess, their union is similar to only one thing_..._

_With a curse, Yoruichi got down to business. It was several minutes before she could sneak inside Kisuke's frame with a numbing knock to his wrist, and in a flash of motion, she slapped him full across the face._

_It was hardly damaging, but it was a move she would never have used, and it was shock she was going for._

_It worked; with a splutter, hazy grey eyes sharpened into razor-sharp silver and Kisuke looked at her with a clear gaze for the first time in minutes, rubbing his wrist. "Ow! What was that for-?"_

_He choked off the rest as she planted her foot firmly in his right kidney, rather effectively putting him on his ass. Standing over his writhing form, Yoruichi glared daggers. "You've been training." Kisuke's gasping cut off as he paused, looking up at her warily. "Without me."_

_"I have not!" Urahara protested, getting weakly to his feet. Yoruichi didn't answer, she just glared at him as his face slowly dissolved from defensive into faintly guilty. "I have not been training without you," he insisted, hesitating minutely before continuing. "I've just been experimenting..." He trailed off, watching her._

_"Experimenting. With what?" Golden eyes met silver while the Shihouin princess' brain raced toward the inevitable conclusion. "Spirit power?" Another long pause as the conclusion hit her. She tilted her head, almost as angry as she was shocked. When the next word emerged, it was barely a whisper. "Bankai?"_

_Slowly, Urahara Kisuke nodded._

_A long moment passed while Yoruichi digested that. "You're close." Kisuke didn't reply, continuing to watch her intently. "Very close. How?"_

_Kisuke cocked his head at her, grinning faintly. "Do you really want to know?"_

_"No." She never did. "But I do want in." At the recalcitrant look that started to steal over his pale features, Yoruichi upped the wattage of her glare. "Don't even think of refusing. You owe me, for not telling me earlier."_

_For a moment, silver eyes glittered at her. "I'll need you for a couple of days. Two, three at most. I think." He waited._

_Yoruichi's mind raced. "It will take awhile to arrange that." She hesitated; Griffin rustled in silent disapproval but she ignored him. "A month from today. Here. Dawn."_

_She disappeared halfway through his nod of acquiescence..._

* * *

It could have been hours or days before Ukitake found him, huddled miserably in a darkened alley outside of Fourth squad. Kisuke didn't bother wondering how he'd been located, although he'd tamped his howling reiatsu down as hard as he could. It had already become scathingly obvious to him that power level wasn't the only thing that went into being a captain, and besides that it wasn't his place right now to ask questions.

There was a long silence, which Ukitake finally broke.

"How did you know to bring her to me?" The quiet, controlled tone cut more deeply than any fury could have accomplished.

Urahara shrugged slightly, raising his head to face the inevitable interrogation. His complexion was sallow, grey eyes deeply shadowed, but his gaze was steady. "You're the one who's been covering for us, I figured. And I knew Unohana-taicho would come at your summons."

Another long pause, before Ukitake grunted. "Well, at least you have _some_ sense in that brilliant, foolish head of yours." He regarded him for a long time. Urahara let him, and did not waver.

He waited.

"Do I want to know how you did it?"

A muscle along Kisuke's jaw twitched. "No, sir."

Ukitake pressed further, eyebrows drawing together. "Will it happen again?"

"_NO_." Kisuke's fingers dug into his forearms to keep himself from trembling under the force of his conviction.

"Kisuke, do you have any idea what it is you have done? What you nearly did?" Kisuke had never heard the gentle captain's voice so rough, so merciless. He very nearly shuddered, his eyes finally dropping to hide the sudden burning moisture.

He whispered.

Ukitake took a step closer, imperious. "I didn't hear-"

"_Yes_," Urahara said, louder, the trembling finally overtaking him. "I know what I've done. What I almost..." His voice broke, and as he raised his eyes again a single tear fell along his clenched jaw. "I promise, it will not happen again."

Ukitake was not quite finished with him. "_She_ promised me that I would not regret my aiding this...tryst." Those brown eyes bored into Kisuke. "You very nearly made her a liar."

Urahara did not look away, but he found it hard to swallow for several heartbeats. The trembling slowed but did not halt.

Ukitake noticed, and when next he spoke his voice was gentler. "She will live. Unohana predicts she will recover fully. And for now, suspicion is not cast too overtly in your direction, although Retsu is beside herself to find out what accomplished such wounds as she has never seen before. You must keep your head down, and stay away from anyone who is sensitive to reiatsu. You have two secrets to keep now, Urahara Kisuke. And," Ukitake added firmly. "You cannot go anywhere near her. Not for a very long time."

"I know," Kisuke answered softly, his shuddering finally under control and his voice even again. He rose slowly, brushing the dust off himself and loosening his grip on reiatsu ever so slightly. "Thank you for letting me know that she's...that she will..." With a direct and slightly forlorn look, he cleared his throat and spoke again. "I don't know if it is even respectful to offer my thanks after all you have risked on our behalf, but nonetheless it is yours. I don't fully understand why you helped us at all..."

Ukitake sighed abruptly, seeming to deflate a bit. "Well...let's just say I have some experience with making acquaintances that were...politically inadvisable." He almost smiled then, wryly, and gestured in defeat at the stark misery on Kisuke's face. "Oh, come now, boy- no." He gave himself a tiny shake. "I cannot call you that anymore." He offered a look that was, finally, the merest shade of sympathetic. "She is two buildings over, east corner window by the lemon tree. I can buy you an hour, maybe." He smiled sadly. "Go say your goodbyes."

* * *

An hour was not enough. But then, all the time in eternity wouldn't have been, so an hour he took. He spent most of it repeating one thing over and over.

"_I'm sorry...I'm sorry...oh gods, I'm sorry..."_

In truth, he got into such a rhythm that he barely heard her speak.

"Uraraha Kisuke, if you say 'I'm sorry' one more time, you will force me to get out of this bed and kick you right in the teeth." Gold glinted in the moonlight; eyes open, Yoruichi was smiling softly through the bandages.

In an instant he was at her side, trying to lace his fingers through hers without causing her pain. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel like hell," she grunted, shifting painfully, stopping at his guilty look. "But I dare say I feel better than you look." As he sank his head, carefully, onto the bed at her side, she raised her other hand to comb softly through his flaxen hair. "I take it, it worked?"

Kisuke forced himself to meet her gaze, torment tightening his features. "Yes," he wrenched softly. "Of course it worked."

Her smile deepened. "Good. Then it was worth it."

"_Ha_!" He surprised both of them with the bitterness in the sound. "_Worth_ it? Yoruichi, no experiment is worth the cost of a life..._your_ life...!"

She heard the pity and self-loathing in his tone and managed to catch his chin firmly, forcing him to look at her. "I'm alive. I'm here with you. Nothing else matters."

"It does. It matters." Kisuke refused to relent, a steely tone etching his voice that neither of them had ever heard before.

"Kisuke, stop it," Yoruichi scolded firmly. "We both knew what we were undertaking-"

"And _you_ got hurt." Kisuke's voice was thick with the unfamiliar timbre of guilt.

"Are you hurting any less?" Her calm rebuttal drew him out of his fugue enough to meet her eyes. "Leave it, Kisuke. We took the same risk, at the same cost." Her eyes started to twinkle. "Same reward..."

"NO!" Kisuke very nearly shouted. He took a breath to calm himself, lower his voice. "No one will use it again."

"Kisu-," she started.

"Yoruichi - _I don't know what that was._ I don't even know for certain if it was bankai-" He broke off, trying to hide his shudder at the memory of Benihime fully released...

**I will teach you the cost of summoning me in this manner, **she had said.

"No one will use it again until I figure out what went wrong," he finished with conviction.

Whether Yoruichi saw the truth in his eyes or not he couldn't tell, but she saw some of the rest, and let it go. "Fine. Figure it out; you _will_ find the answer. You always do." She shifted, a steely sadness shadowing her breathtaking eyes. "You'll have plenty of time now. We're both going to have to lay low until this blows over, won't we." It wasn't a question.

Something behind Kisuke's sternum caught and twisted painfully. "Yeah." His fingers tightened around hers reflexively.

Yoruichi's eyes slid shut, a brief capitulation before the agony inherent in that truth. "Okay." Then she was pinning him with her gaze, all the heat and strength and determination he adored so much simmering in the molten gold facets. "Don't let anyone or anything stand in your way, Urahara Kisuke. When this is all over, I'll meet you on the other side."

Dropping a fervid kiss onto her finger tips, he returned her look with a matching one of his own.

"I'll be waiting." Turning, Kisuke filled his vision with the sight of her and disappeared.


	13. Disclosure

_Interlude: Real World_

Yoruichi's eyes slid open. She was alone on the rough pallet, but that didn't surprise her, since it was Kisuke's absence that had woken her. She could always tell when he got restless at night, but never knew exactly where he would be or in what condition she would find him. It was even harder now, in the real world; she didn't know if it was the gigai or if he'd just gotten better at hiding things from her, but in this place he was harder to read than ever. And even though she knew what haunted him on nights like these, a tiny part of her mourned that - in this at least - he was afraid to seek her comfort.

This night, she didn't have to search the tiny ramshackle house for him. The pale moonlight glinted off Kisuke's flaxen hair as he sat deep in a shadowed corner. His eyes were open, but far away, his arms resting across bent knees. In his hands, he held his cane, the crook resting against his forehead.

A cool shiver ran through Yoruichi. While it was a relief that he was still in the room, she knew that in truth he was somewhere else, somewhere he didn't like to be. And even though it was his own zanpaktou that had called him there, Yoruichi knew that there was nowhere else he felt more alone.

With a graceful sweep of her limbs, she slipped into her little cat shape and padded carefully, slowly across the floor. Silently she approached them, knowing it was in this form and this form only that Benihime would allow her to draw near right now. As she got closer, her hair fit to stand up at the sweet, seductive keening emanating from the hidden sword; barely on the edge of hearing, it still set her ears twitching and even now, after all these centuries, she could feel the pulse of that song throbbing deep in her chest.

This was one of the few times Yoruichi ever felt fear, small and controlled though it may be. But that never mattered, at times like this. What mattered was that Kisuke was alone, and without her he would never find his way back.

So, ever conscious of the crimson sword and its thralled owner, Yoruichi carefully climbed into Kisuke's lap, and curled up tightly, purring softly...

And waited.

_- - - - - -_

_The gigai remained still, but deep within it Kisuke's soul trembled. Benihime whispered to him, her silken voice racing through his veins._

_**Come join with me...I am lonely without you, Master...**_

_Another violent tremor, horror sickeningly twined with ecstasy, as he clung to sanity. _Do not taunt me, Benihime. We both know I am not your 'master'.

_The zanpaktou shifted in irritation at the rebuttal, tuning her voice to an even more seductive note._

_**But I**_** need** _**you, Kisuke...**_

_**...remember how sweetly we sang together...**_

* * *

_"So, that do you think - chemistry or kidou for the master flash?"_

The pale, slender form draped over the corner console grunted a barely audible and unintelligible reply, inciting a riotous outcry from the inquiring, dark-haired beauty.

"Hey, Mr. Asshole Smarty-Pants!" The fiery Shiba clan member glared in all her splendor. "I'm asking a serious question here!"

"Kidou," came the much clearer answer, although gray eyes remained distant and troubled.

Kuukaku snorted, her pretty features twisting into a gruesome frown. "Are you sure? I mean, I want CRIMSON, seriously, and the chants only seem to produce blood-red..._way_ too dark for the color scheme." She continued to mutter as she began sifting determinedly through Kisuke's collection of vials and tubes.

Urahara sighed; if she kept this up, she would trash his lab again and gods only knew when he'd be able to find things again. Last time she went on a rampage, it had taken him the better part of a month to find his particle atomizer. "Kuu, why do you ask my opinion when you never take it?"

"Because I'm a contrary bitch, you know that," Kuukaku replied with a toothy grin.

Despite his fugue, Urahara found himself smiling faintly back. "Then why do I bother to answer you?"

"Cuz you like the challenge!" Kuukaku crowed in victory, seizing a vial and wrenching the lid off it.

Urahara calmly snagged it from her fingers before she could take a whiff. "I wouldn't do that, unless you want to lose your olfactory senses for the rest of this life and quite possibly the next one."

Kuukaku snorted. "Bah, you're exaggerating." At Kisuke's flat look, the Shiba only shrugged. "It's not like I need to smell anything. In fact, it might be better not to; do you _know_ how rank four brothers can get to be after a while? And if that powder makes a crimson flash..." Her motion to grab the vial back was quickly averted, Kisuke once again thanking the gods for his experience sparring with quick and freakishly strong girls.

"It won't. I swear," he insisted at her dubious look. "Look, use the kidou, I mean it. Some of the higher chants make very nice spectral effects..."

"But not the one I want!" Kuukaku insisted, stamping her foot. She crossed her arms, knowing exactly what it did to her cleavage. She also knew it wouldn't work on Kisuke, but she was clearly too pissed to care. "Kisuke, you _promised_ you'd help me with this, dammit! Everyone knows you've been mentoring me for the last year, and that NEVER happens between squad members and Academy students. People are going to be expecting to see something spectacular at the winter festival!!" Dark eyes flashed as Kuukaku brought out her white canines. "The honor of the Shibas is at stake here, you know! If your hang-ups about your stupid passion project interferes with my show, I'll fucking castrate you."

"I don't have hang-ups, Kuu," Urahara sighed in exasperation. Whatever else he'd planned to say got lost in a whoosh as her left fist connected squarely with his right kidney.

"Bullshit," Kuukaku shot back, dispassionately watching him crumple. "All you've done for the last year is mope and gripe over that damn thing," she aimed a well-placed kick to the tenshintai, threatening to topple it from it precarious perch in the corner. "And dammitall if pouting looks ridiculous on a guy! Especially _your_ ugly mug."

Kisuke saved the tenshintai from smashing to the floor, but only just and with no small sacrifice to the pained side he was trying to hold. "Quit it, Kuu! You're gonna break it..." He trailed off, realizing how stupid he sounded.

One black eyebrow was already arched in classic Shiba irony. "It's already broken, baka! At least that's what you've been whining about all these months. Just fix it, or ditch it and move on already!"

Kisuke managed to get both himself and the tenshintai reasonably restored. "It's not _broken_, that's the problem." He scrubbed a frustrated hand through flaxen hair. "It just doesn't _work_. I don't think so, anyway." At Kuukaku's exasperated glare, he wilted into defensiveness. "It _should_ work, that's all I know. The science is sound, the execution without flaw. But the results..."

Kuukaku just rolled her eyes, having heard all this a million times already. "Well, no one can help you because not only are you smarter than the rest of us - and I'm STILL mad at you for that, asshole - but you won't tell anyone what the hell it does!!" That quickly, the mercurial noblewoman got sick and tired of the subject. "Honestly, you start and discard a dozen projects a week, I don't know what makes _this_ one so damn important..."

"_It's important."_ The sudden, smooth steel in Kisuke's voice chilled the room. "It just _is_, Kuu." _It's the most important thing in the universe right now -_ everything _rides on this - and I can't fucking figure it out...!_ Kisuke very nearly growled in pent-up frustration. Kuukaku, as usual, either did not notice or did not care.

"Fine, whatever." Shiba boredom transitioned effortlessly into annoyed vexation. "If you can't fix it then find someone who can, or stop bitching about it already. I'm going to go find a way to get my crimson finale, and to hell with you." With that, she pivoted on her heel and stomped out of the room.

"Kuu, I'll help you..." He bit off the end of his half-hearted offer as Kuukaku's raspy voice echoed back at him, telling him exactly where he could stick his offer. With a grimace, Urahara stared balefully at the tenshintai; in the half-gloom of his laboratory, it almost looked like a real person, staring back at him. Mocking him.

Kisuke sighed. The last year had been a nightmare of lonely frustration, and finding himself denied the answers to the event that had nearly killed Yoruichi, he had felt himself slipping slowly but surely into a near despondency. For someone so supposedly genius, he sure was striking out in the brilliance department lately. He had examined and studied and tested every single element of the tenshintai, excluding only the actual use of it, and could find no flaws at all. All the evidence of experimentation and conclusion led only to the fact that the item he'd created could produce bankai in a spirit being within a matter of days, assuming the shinigami was of a high enough power potential. And there was no question that using it had increased Kisuke's spirit level exponentially...

_But the rest..._ Kisuke shuddered.

Without another word, he turned and left the lab, leaping with calm and careful application of shunpo to the roof. It was late - two or three in the morning, going by the positioning of the stars above - but Kisuke rarely slept any more. He _needed_ to figure this out; the key had to be in here somewhere. Until he solved the problem of the tenshintai and his resulting condition, he couldn't rest. The answer stood between him and his future, him and his sanity...

Between him and Yoruichi.

It was the first time ever that success had brought along with it such a bitter, heavy burden. The tenshintai _worked_, dammit all. There was no denying that it was flawless. But all that meant was that if there was no flaw in the _device_...

Then the flaw was in him.

Tentatively, Kisuke reached inside himself, to the maelstrom of power that surged deep in the core of his spirit. It was the merest of touches, the barest grazing, lighter than air and no heavier than a glance. But in just that moment of reaching, he could hear Benihime's song crescendo, felt her swell and rise to meet him, to engulf him..._to seduce him_...

A breath of madness swept his mind before he pulled back with a lurch. The night was cool, but a glaze of sweat already beaded his brow. Gasping for breath, he tried to calm the tremor that ran through him, slamming every wall he could conjure up between him and the zanpaktou that keened so sweetly for him.

_Even locked up in my room, she can have this effect on me_...

In the darkness, Urahara's eyes gleamed, his resolve slamming into him. Kuukaku was right; he needed help, for the tenshintai had unleashed something he couldn't understand or control. But he did not need someone smarter than him, assuming that could be found; the science behind his creation was solid. What he needed was someone stronger. Stronger than himself.

Stronger than Benihime.

It was a long time before Kisuke moved from his perch on the rooftop, but by the time he did, his mind was made up.

* * *

It took the better part of the next day before Kisuke found a plausible excuse to go to Fourth and run into the only person who he could trust.

"Ukitake-taicho," Kisuke dropped into a formal bow, and this time the white-haired captain did not dissuade him from the formality. Kisuke tried not to let that wrench. "I need to speak with the soutaicho."

Hard brown eyes met his, Ukitake's angled features dipping in a clipped nod. "I thought you might, eventually. You certainly took your time." He regarded Kisuke for a moment, scrutinizing. "I meet with Yamamoto-dono every third afternoon of the month, to discuss matters important to the Gotei. I will arrange for you to join us."

Kisuke dropped lower in gratitude. "I will be there. Thank you for your generosity."

"Don't thank me yet," Ukitake replied gravely, turning to leave. "If meeting Yama-jii goes even slightly the way I think it will, you will be wishing you were reborn on earth as a marsupial." A faint sparkle in those chocolate eyes lightened the apocalyptic proclamation as Ukitake took his leave. "I hope to hell you have the slightest idea what you're getting yourself into."

Folded into a proper bow, Urahara smiled faintly into the floorboards.

_Do I ever?_

* * *

It was almost a full week before the summons came, and when it did Kisuke surprised himself with a deep surge of terror.

He suppressed the fear, quickly and efficiently. There was nothing for it but to lay his cards on the table, no matter how accustomed to hiding his power he had become. He suddenly understood why captains shared their strength so infrequently; there was an almost jealous guarding of one's potential that seemed part of achieving such a power level. For a brief moment, he felt the inexplicable urge to keep Benihime all to himself...

_All the more reason to get this over with_. Glancing at the zanpaktou slung tightly around his waist, Kisuke raised his hand and knocked on the door of the First Squad captain's quarters.

"_Enter_."

Those who had heard Yamamoto Genruusai's voice in full command-mode rarely forgot it. The craggy, rumbling bark had a way of shivering straight through a person, encouraging even the staunchest of souls to pause and reflect on what they might have done wrong. It also elicited immediate obedience, without conscious thought and with such swiftness that Urahara wondered if there was some kind of kidou laced through it.

_Can kidou actually alter emotions? Tamper with them? I wonder if I could test for that_...? All thought in a flash and filed away for later examination in the time it took for Kisuke cross to the middle of the First Squad administrative suite and drop to the floor in full, ceremonial seiza. He murmured some kind of appropriate phrase into the floorboards and submitted himself to the scrutiny of one of the oldest living shinigami and his pale-haired protege.

There was a long silence, during which Kisuke felt himself growing warmer, a trickle of sweat working down his back. He ignored it, afraid to break stance or the tension in the air. After half an eternity, Yamamoto grumbled.

"_Hm_," the soutaicho grunted. "It is as you say, Ukitake-taicho." Urahara stayed where he was, frozen. "Do you know why you are here, boy?"

Kisuke's white knuckles gripped Benihime's pommel as he found his voice. "Yamamoto-sutaicho," he croaked. "I requested to speak with you..."

"_Wrong_," Yamamoto barked. "You did not request anything. A situation was brought to my attention by one of your superiors, and you were summoned. Do not be so foolish to think your presence here has anything to do with your decisions. Poor as they appear to have been thus far." Urahara shuddered at the staunch reprimand, but Yamamoto's voice flayed him again. "Now, tell me what you have done to your spirit power."

Kisuke jerked up a hair. He felt Benihime's crest branding his palm through his tense grip. She was right there, on edge. _Listening_.

"Sutaicho, the answer to that is...complicated."

"_Know your place, chozo._" If Yamamoto's voice was frightening in command, then in anger it was enough to loosen bowels. "Your power level is vastly beyond your age, experience and training. If you have managed to attain power by some method that you have kept secret from your peers, your betters and your Gotei, then you are in danger of branding yourself at best a traitor, and at the worst a direct threat. This is no small matter, _and it is not a request_. You _will_ explain yourself."

Urahara was prepared for this, but gods only knew if he would live past the next few moments. "With all due respect, Captain Commander, it is against no less than eleven Gotei regulations to require a shinigami to reveal the method by which he acquired bankai. This is regardless of rank. As a member of a squad, no matter my position, the laws still apply." Kisuke had studied those laws most carefully over the last year, and they were incontestable. And Yamamoto and Ukitake both knew it; the later audibly sucked in breath, and two spirit powers - one blisteringly hot, the other charged with the scent of the ocean before a storm - surged around the room in unspoken affront. Before the reiatsu in the room could swell high enough to suffocate him, Kisuke labored on. "But I can _show_ you. If you will please allow me a moment or two, then I will provide some of the answers you seek."

Yamamoto's eyes both twitched open, a clear indication of his displeasure, and his silence hung heavily for a long moment while Kisuke struggled to breathe normally. In his hand, Benihime fairly quivered.

"Exactly what are we waiting for, _chozo_?" Yamamoto's voice could have cut through soulstone.

Urahara didn't have to answer; suddenly Kyourakou Shunsui appeared in a whiff of kidou and flowers, followed a heartbeat later by Unohana Retsu.

"Oiy," Kyourakou blurted, brown eyes wide and taking in the room roiling with tumultuous reiatsu and its inhabitants. "Yama-jii, what's going on here?"

"Kyourakou," the sutaicho bellowed. "What gives you the right to come charging unannounced into my chambers?"

Shunsui looked utterly baffled. "I received a hell-butterfly...it said that Jyuu was having a fit of sickness, and to come straight here."

"I received the same," Unohana murmured, her placid face sombering in confusion.

But Kisuke was already on his feet. "I apologize for the deception, I could see no better way to get all of you in the same room without raising alarm." Benihime was thrumming in his hand, the madness already reaching out for him. "And you see, I needed all of you present in order to dare letting her loose." _Ukitake-taicho - for a promise made, not to let her hurt anyone else. Kyourakou-taicho - for Ukitake's sake, in case the man was currently weaker than he looked. Unohana-taicho - ...for the worst case scenario._ Determinedly, Kisuke withdrew Benihime; he could feel her song already pitching sweetly in the pit of his stomach, keening through his chest and rushing his pulse. It sickened him. Quietly, he held her aloft and spoke.

"For the safety of all present, may I request that you release your shikais, and have bankai release at the ready." Urahara said, his low voice carrying in the tense air, his eyes locked on his soul slayer and his features tightening in what may have been concentration.

Everyone stirred at that, more than one hand dropping to hilt as Yamamoto trembled with rage. "Kisuke, you go too far!"

But Kisuke tuned him out, as Benihime's song flooded his ears and she rose eagerly at his call. "I only pray, Commander General," he murmured, relieved to feel at least Ukitake heed his warning. "_That I do not go too far indeed_..."

The world turned red as he slid into Benihime.

"_Benihime no Ikari...BANKAI!"_


	14. Bankai

Benihime met him with a cold, hard look in her blood-red eyes.

**It has been too long, Lover.**

The being that was Kisuke would have trembled, had there been any part of him left that was capable of fear. As it was, a feral grin took over his face as he sank his teeth into the power she offered him and without hesitation let himself get pulled inexorably into the tide of blood lust...

**Too long...since our first joining together...**

The memory washed over Kisuke, occluding the First squad room and its seething captains as all sanity slipped from his grasp...

* * *

"How do you know it will be today?" Yoruichi held the Tenshintai with an expression that mixed concern with doubt, her pretty features drawn together in as much concern as the Shihouin minx ever allowed. Kisuke could only imagine how ragged he looked after battling soul manifestation for two days straight and could hardly blame her worry.

"Because," he managed wearily, hefting Benihime and preparing to spear her blade through the oddly-shaped contraption. "I don't think the doll will last any longer." One quick thrust, and the soul slayer was through. "Or that _I_ will, for that matter..."

A pulsar of spirit power swept the cavern as Benihime emerged, with a song that set Kisuke's blood on fire. Lightening set the cavern alight as a black and red, roiling mass twisted and turned in front of him. As his soul slayer reached full manifestation, the darkly crimson tornado whipped and reached out to him, extending from the ground all the way to the ceiling; howling winds tore through the cavern that suddenly felt much smaller than before, the walls shaking as it tried to contain Benihime's vehemence.

It was an awesome sight, and had shocked Kisuke at her first manifestation; he had not anticipated that the heart of his soul could be so wildly chaotic, so tantalizingly beyond control. It was disturbingly out of sorts with his clear and ordered mind, and in the few feverish hours of sleep that had been allowed him these past two days, he was disquieted at the dual nature it proposed in him. _Can a zanpaktou - the very truest representation of a soul - really be so different from their soulsource?_ The idea that part of him could be so terribly primal and animalistic had haunted him, even as he'd tried to figure it out logically, his mind automatically searching for the reason in the chaos. He couldn't help feeling as if he could have figured it all out of only he had more time...

But time was something he did not have. Despite his words to Yoruichi, Urahara _knew_ this was the last day. Benihime had told him at the beginning, while screaming at the presumption of summoning her in this manner, that three days would be all she could give him. And that there would be a price to pay...

"Benihime," Kisuke croaked, hefting his blade and qualming his fears. "Let us end this."

With a wordless scream, the torrential mass launched herself at him.

It was, in every way, like fighting a hurricane with his bare hands. Benihime was a gale-force act of nature, everywhere at once, screaming and twisting in fury that bordered on pure insanity. Kisuke did everything he could to stay alive, using his empty sword to block gusts of wind as sharp as razors and airborne boulders bigger than himself as they flew at him from all sides. His brilliant mind and sharp eyes were looking for every hint of her movement, trying to stay ahead of her, trying to figure out her next strike, which was remarkably difficult with her every-changing, wind borne form. For two days he had analyzed her, memorizing every facet of his soul manifestation that he could, his eyes burning with the effort of gathering information. When Kisuke collapsed in utter exhaustion at the end of each day he could barely see straight, his mind racing with information, trying to find a pattern, a clue, an answer as to how to defeat her. But so far he had reached no discernible conclusions. Benihime was pure wildness, pure madness; there _was_ no discernible pattern, no weakness. Not that he could see yet, any way.

Had he sought her submission the traditional way, he might have had time to find some answers. But he had chosen this path, and a decade he did not have. As this final day drew on, his strength started to falter, his concentration beginning to flag. It was proving impossible to out-think Benihime, and something deep within Urahara tugged at his awareness. He couldn't help feeling that the heart of Benihime was somewhere deep within the maelstrom, and if he truly wanted to defeat her he was going to have to find someway inside, someway to enter the madness and reach her...

Kisuke gritted his teeth as a thrill of anticipation rushed through him. _If I could just get inside_...

**Yes**, Benihime's words whispered throatily out of the maelstrom. **You are starting to see...**

Kisuke drew together the last of his flagging energy and firmed the grip on his sword. He recklessly tossed all logic aside and, going on pure instinct, with a roar he launched himself into the whirlwind, mentally shielding himself as best he could. He could not afford to get draw in too far; _he_ needed to be the master, to overwhelm and subjugate, not her...

**Ah, but I am not an ordinary soul slayer, Kisuke,** Benihime thrummed, and he could feel the howl of the wind singing through his veins. He plunged deeper into the wild darkness, seeking the form he knew in his heart was there.

**I have the heart of a woman, and a female's love cannot be forced**. Out of the depths, at last, she emerged - a fiery red Lorelei with crimson hair that fell down past slender shoulders, dancing on the wind and dripping blood from her floating robes. Kisuke felt his mouth dry at the very sight of her; lithe and graceful, she flowed like water and shimmered every shade of red the gods had ever dreamed of. He felt his limbs go torpid at the enthralling vision.

**You seek to achieve by brute strength that which can only be given freely**. Ruby lips curled, and Kisuke's blood boiled from the purely electric essence of her. **You seek to rape my power from me**.

"No..." Kisuke managed in weak protest, his brain fuzzing as he was inundated with pure, animalistic sensation. It was so hard to think clearly, with the stunningly dangerous figure floating before him.

**You seek to logically explain that which can only be accepted with the heart**. Kisuke swallowed, unable to argue the truth of that statement. Indeed, all this arguments, all his resistances, were leeching slowly out of him...

**You seek my submission... **Benihime hummed sweetly, her hands drifting in serene motions that only brought to mind a lover's caress, nearly driving him mad with desire...

**You may only have it**... Kisuke felt all of his sanity sweeping away from him in the face of her wild passion...

**If you embrace me**. He suddenly saw the sadness in her garnet eyes, felt the sting of loneliness emanating from her being. **Love me, and you will own me...**

In that instant, he understood. His feminine sword, all blood and fire and sensuality and lust, was the counterbalance to his coldly logical and meticulous brain, her passion and his brilliance perfect equals. He _couldn't_ figure her out, he could only seek to accept her as she was. Neither could he defeat her, and he could only dominate if he learned to embrace her. Benihime's eyes glittered as she saw comprehension light his eyes. As Kisuke launched himself at the very heart his of soul manifestation, Benihime threw her arms wide open, crowing in ecstasy.

**Enter me, Lover! And we will Sing together!!**

With one final thrust, and what felt like the final breath he would ever draw, Kisuke plunged his blade deep into her heart...

"_Wrath of the Crimson Empress - BANKAI!"_

The world went red. Benihime's song coursed through him, filled him, _was_ him, and he was her. Together, they were heat and passion and pure, raging desire.

_And blood_. It was everywhere, filling his senses with a tangy, metallic frenzy. He _was_ blood, flowing, throbbing, pulsing. All brilliant, rational thought was gone, all coherence and sanity. All patience. Kisuke was one with Benihime, joined in perfect unison with a soul slayer that knew now hesitation, no control, no prudence. No mercy. Together they were absolute, unadulterated bloodlust. He seethed with power, reaching out and expanding and filling every hollow and crevice of his underground cavern, and though he reached further it was not enough. He needed more, _lusted_ for more, and knew nothing beyond the hollow, enraging desire to fill and be filled. The being that had been Kisuke had become pure instinct, and egged on by Benihime's inhuman lust, wanted nothing more than to find new places to flow into, expand, to enter...

Benihime smiled. **Come then, Lover! Let us find somewhere new to Sing...**

He let her guide him, and together they plunged into a place that was warm, alive, begging to be entered and explored. If filling the cave had been exhilarating, it was nothing compared to this; strength and power and the essence of life pulsed all around him, drugging him with the desire to overwhelm it, to test its resilience, to fill and expand and burst. Giggling with delight, together they coursed along veins and sinews and muscles, their touch rupturing spirit matter behind them wherever they went, and still _it was not enough_...

This time it was Kisuke who smiled and, as one they turned hungrily for the heart, yearning to fill it to capacity and then feel it erupt in orgasmic release...

The beating of that heart gave him pause.

_That heart_.

He knew that heart.

Benihime was laughing, singing her siren song, but that heart beat with a rhythm he knew.

A rhythm he loved...

OH GODS. YORUICHI.

Realization slammed into him, forcing his mind to function again, slicing through Benihime's enchantment.

_They were inside Yoruichi_.

And they were killing her.

Kisuke felt the dissonance begin the moment sane thought returned to him. Closing his mind to the chaotic aria of his soul, he started to resist its thrall.

**Not yet, Lover!** Benihime begged, tears in her voice. **Do not leave me yet! Stay inside me, just another moment...** She increased her speed, the heart only a breath out of her reach. **With me, you are everything, unstoppable...I am **_**nothing**_ **without you...!**

_NO!_ With every shred of strength he possessed, Kisuke locked onto Benihime, refusing to let her coda overwhelm his reason again, and with brute force he ripped them out of the body they were assaulting. The world went black as Benihime's scream of loss rang in his ears...

* * *

This time, however, it wasn't a beating heart that broke the symbiotic thrall.

An intense wave of heat seared Kisuke down to the very marrow of his bones. Benihime wrenched loose her grip on him, retreating in terror from the firestorm of spirit power that suddenly washed over them.

With a scream, Kisuke fell to his knees, Benihime clattering to sealed impotence on the ground beside him. No less than four swords points were at his throat, and he had to struggle for breath against the combined reiatsu of four seasoned captains in release. The stifling reiatsus around him were still surging against the threat his own bankai had presented and it took him half an eternity to remember where he was, in the First squad administrative suite. Gasping, he used the last of his strength to put up a hand in submission; long moments passed with only the ragged sound of his breath and, as he slumped in exhaustion and his zanpaktou stayed sealed, slowly the sword-points withdrew.

It took Kisuke a while to blink most of the blood out of his eyes; when he finally looked up at Yamamoto-dono, his vision was still pinked. A part of him managed awe at the sight of Ryuujin Jakka released in shikai and with a jolt he realized which of the present captains Benihime had attempted to assault. He very nearly chuckled at her insane ambition, but in truth it didn't surprise him that she had wanted the strongest heart, the one burning with fire and fury. _And here I'd thought Ukitake would have been in the greatest danger_... Slowly, limbs shaking like a newborn calf, Kisuke calmed his breathing and with jerky motions managed a reasonably submissive kneeling position with some shred of composure, hands on his knees. He didn't even look at his sword, or at the other captains present. He just locked gazes with the ancient eyes of the one who would now decide his fate.

And waited.

One after the other, Ukitake and Shunsui resealed their zanpaktous, damping down their reiatsu to more normal levels, although it was clear they were still on guard. Unohana's blade had not been released; thankfully, it had not been needed, and after a quick wave of her reiatsu told her that no one had incurred any physical harm, Minatzuki quieted as well. Finally, after an endless moment, Yamamoto sealed his own sword; with a clack of reiatsu, Yamamoto-dono's blade returned to its cane form.

"I hereby confirm that you have achieved bankai." Yamamoto's voice cut like a knife, trembling with barely-contained fury. "But it is abhorrently clear that you have not mastered it." Ancient eyes bored into him. "Enough prevarication, Urahara Kisuke. Do not allow yourself to think that your life is not on the line. Explain yourself, and the reason for this unfathomable presumption."

Kisuke wrestled for a moment, only able to give so much in his answer. "This was only my second bankai release, Captain Commander."

"You have not trained your bankai?" Yamamoto-dono actually took a step forward in galvanized affront "And yet you released it in my presence...?"

"I made a promise never to let her hurt an innocent again," Kisuke replied quietly, barely managing to keep his eyes from flickering in Ukitake's direction. "And I could not control her on my own. I concluded that it would be unwise to release her again until I had access to equals who could guide the training properly, without injury or incident."

There was no mistaking his claiming of the right to stand among Captains.

Another long silence passed, and it felt to Kisuke as if the very air was on fire as Yamamoto glared at him.

"Unohana-taicho. Please escort Urahara-san to your squad for a thorough examination. Kyouraku-taicho will assist you." _Will protect you_ went unspoken, and Kisuke stirred to defend himself, but Yamamoto-dono's sharp commands gave him no time to speak. "Ukitake-taicho, you will remain with me; there is much to discuss, and I must deliberate as to the fate of this young scoundrel."

Kisuke's heart sank; aside from not wanting any further drawing out of his fate, he prayed to all the gods that Yamamoto-dono had missed any slip that would have betrayed Ukitake's awareness of his bankai, even the little he truly knew about it. But again, there was no time for action or protest as Unohana stepped forward.

"Please come with me, Urahara Kisuke." Unohana's mild voice was at odds with the imperious timbre that changed the sentence from a request to something just shy of an order. Nodding silently, Kisuke reluctantly picked up his zanpaktou and together with her and Kyourakou-taicho flashed away...

* * *

The time Unohana took to examine him seemed like an eternity to Kisuke. He didn't ask what her various tools did or what they told her; half of the items he had invented for her and the other half he could discern by her use of them. When she pulled out what looked like a glass ball and asked him to hold it lightly, he gave her the tiniest of smiles; let her examine his spirit power if she so willed. The secret of his bankai had already been revealed, and the only secret he had left could not be discovered with any kind of scope.

Or so he thought.

"You are in fine condition, Urahara Kisuke," Unohana murmured calmly, but only a fool would have taken her look to be placid. Black eyes gazed clearly into gray, and if her countenance was serene then her perception was sharp enough to cut a soul on. "Although your reiatsu is still fluctuating wildly..." She clucked, matronly. A fool would have taken it as a soothing balm.

Kisuke was not a fool. Tense, he waited.

When Retsu spoke again, it was soft enough to have been disarming, had Kisuke not been on guard. "Benihime's attributes are quite fascinating; I can honestly say I have only once before seen anything remotely similar. The way she seemed to be want to attack _from the inside out_..." The glass sphere sputtered and winked out as Retsu turned to replace it on its shelf, her back to Urahara. "I wonder what kind of wounds that would inflict..."

The silence in the room was deafening. Retsu was not asking him; she already knew now what had caused the Shihouin heir's wounds a year ago. Kisuke, knowing there was no need to reply, waited for her to turn and face him. When she did, he met her eyes without cowardice, though a part of him trembled. It was as much of a confirmation as he could give her, and more than she needed. After an eon had passed, black eyes to silver, Retsu offered him the slightest of nods, and despite himself Kisuke felt the tiniest bit forgiven.

When the hell butterfly appeared and summoned them to Yamamoto-dono's private chambers, Kisuke felt like he had aged a full century.

For some reason, standing with the same captains as before felt more stifling in the private chambers of First squad, but mercifully Yamamoto began speaking as soon as Kyouraku and Unohana settled next to Ukitake, Kisuke standing before them all.

"Urahara Kisuke, you present a problem," the old man rumbled; Kisuke thought there was an edge of weariness to the sharp tone. "I wonder what it is you expect me to do with you. You surely cannot expect me to advance a shinigami to captain who has no control of his bankai..."

"No, sir." _Not yet; not until I can prove myself_...Kisuke plundered on, as close to desperation as he had ever come. "Yet, I beg you to hear me. It is true, I cannot control my bankai, but I _can_ control whether or not I call it out." Kisuke ignored the stirring created by his interruption, too desperate to be heard to heed his own tendency towards caution. "A control I have demonstrated by containing her from the first release until today. I ask for nothing more than for you to _use_ me, sir." Fervid, Kisuke took a step forward, goaded by the terror of coming this far and losing everything... "My bankai is out of control, but my mind is not. I have hundreds of inventions and ideas already planned, things you can use, things that will improve The Gotei 13 and Sereitei as well - you _know_ this, as I have been reporting them to you since I was a student. Give me the chance, Lord Commander, and I will train my bankai and I _will_ gain mastery..."

"Unohana-taicho," Yamamoto-dono broke in with a mighty rumble, silencing Kisuke instantly. "What were the results of your examination?"

"They were as you suspected, Yamamoto-sutaicho," she answered mildly.

"Very well." Another pause, and when Yamamoto spoke his voice was somehow softer. "If you will excuse us captains, Urahara and I have much to discuss."

Ukitake gave Kisuke a long, hard look before vanishing with the others, leaving Kisuke alone with the captain commander and his own mystification.

Kisuke felt sweat trickling down his back as once again, he waited. For a moment, despair washed over him, the overwhelming feeling that he had failed everyone and everything, most of all himself...most of all...

_Yoruichi...gods, I'm sorry_...

When Yamamoto finally spoke, it was with a reminiscent air and a soft tone that was utterly unexpected.

"I was eons old already when I rose to power." The room seemed to heat up, glowing as if by firelight, although the nearby hearth was unlit. "There were no formalities then, no rank. No process, or order, or control. The strong rose, and the weak fell - that was all. There was nothing else to govern the wide reaches of Soul Society. No voice of reason or compassion." Yamamoto shifted his cane in his hands, settling back into his memories as if they grieved him. "Terrible injustices were commonplace, torrential powers governing by whim alone, no rule but that of oppression. But some believed that we could achieve something greater, and it was out of that place that order arose. Though I was not alone in founding the society you now enjoy, of the great warlords of those times, only I remain." Almond eyes glittered. "It took great work and sacrifice to leash the wild chaos of those days, to force civilization to emerge. Echoes of it remain still." At that, Kisuke shivered slightly, thinking of the outer skirts of Rukongai where survival of the fittest was a kind phrase for the horrendous lives that struggled there. Yamamoto-sutaicho's eyes slid open, drawing Kisuke's unwavering attention. "I tell you this because you need to know that I have achieved and maintained my station with much sacrifice, and - since before the position of captain was first formalized - without _ever_ releasing my bankai."

A shiver ran through Kisuke as his mind started racing. Without_ releasing his bankai...does that mean Ryuujin Jakka's_ _shikai alone eclipses the power of any other captain in full release...?_

Yamamoto heaved a great sigh. "You have a Chaos zanpaktou, Urahara-san." Something in the way he said it sent shock waves through Kisuke's brain as he searched memory for any mention of such a thing; there was none. Yamamoto's rumble brought him back. "Train with it you will. And some measure of control you can and _must_ gain." The eyes slid open and lasered Kisuke with perspicacity. "But you will _never_ gain mastery. It is the nature of the sword you yield, the nature of your deepest soul."

Kisuke stilled as the waves of revelation slammed into him. In horror and fascination, he lifted Benihime, staring at her with a new kind of fascination. _Never...?_

Into his reverie, Yamamoto spoke. "I have indeed read your reports, and cannot deny that they have merit; you speak truth to say that you have much to offer the Gotei 13, and Sereitei. It would be the height of foolishness to forgo such a wealth. But Kisuke," the voice growled as Yamamoto held up a hand in warning. "Know that power alone will not give you what you seek. I will _not_ place you as full captain until you have trained your bankai."

Kisuke nodded, relief flooding him and making it very hard not to collapse. It was more than he'd hoped for, and more would come with time, he would see to that...

"For now, you will remain with your squad; do not think that this revelation will prompt an untimely advancement. When the time comes, I will be sure you have a suitable squad to oversee. It will be strictly non-combat; you will be banned from every Hollow mission and even the training of your own squad. Kisuke," Yamamoto thundered. "You are _never_ to release your bankai, in combat nor for any other reason save training alone. Not for the duration of your captaincy, or during your time in _any_ capacity in the Gotei 13. Is that understood?"

Kisuke's mind was reeling, but he nodded numbly at the conditions being offered him. Truth be told, he had feared ever releasing her again until he'd gained control, and now that he was presented with the possibility that he might never achieve full mastery...Numb, he tentatively reached within.

_Why can't I learn to control you,_ he asked his soul slayer quietly.

Benihime hummed seductively. **Because, Lover - you don't **_**want**_ **to...**

"You have my word, Yamamoto-sutaicho, that I will not release my bankai outside of training." Almost absently, Kisuke wondered who the most suitable training partner would be. Ukitake he trusted the most, but the man's health was always a question...

Yamamoto seemed to read his mind without effort. "Urahara Kisuke," Yamamoto broke in, is voice grating oddly. Anyone stupid enough would have thought there was the tiniest hint of reluctance in the tone. "The only thing that can train a Chaos sword is another Chaos sword." Wood creaked as Yamamoto's knuckles whitened from the grip with which he he held his cane.

"You will train with me."


	15. Fallout

_Princess, this training is thoroughly boring and contemptible_.

Yoruichi finished crumpling her SMC opponent before deigning to reply to her zanpaktou.

_Is that my fault? You had a worthy adversary and disdained him. Now there's nothing for it but to practice with ordinary soldiers._ Three SMC subordinates came at her at once; Yoruichi took them out with almost lazy competence. In her mind's eye, she saw feathers rippling with haughty affront. _Oh, quit your bitching, you can't have it both ways_...

A sharp lion growl shook her eyes in their sockets; by the time Yoruichi cleared her head, a dozen more soldiers were lying prone and groaning. She glared mutely at her soul slayer. _Hey, don't take it out on them. Just because you miss Benihime-_

_Benihime is a foul and conniving beast whose soul source did not have the decency to advance her power through proper means. Hardly a worthy adversary_. Griffin's galvanized grunt rattled through Yoruichi's chest, but instead of unsettling her it only brought a wry grin to her face.

_You're just jealous._

Griffin's fury took out another battalion of SMC without breaking a sweat. Yoruichi whirled across the training grounds like a bat out of hell, felling subordinates by the dozen. For a moment she worried at the effect it might have on morale, but dismissed such concern. The SMC was an elite fighting corps, and even an infuriated zanpaktou should have been better opposed; they had much to learn, now that she was in charge.

Wry, she turned her attention back to her zanpaktou. _Methinks the lion doth protest too much_...

This time Griffin did little more than cock a snooty eyebrow at her. _Obsolete foreign quotes? So unlike you_.

_As are fits of tantrum to you,_ Yoruichi returned firmly. One of her squad captains managed a lucky swipe, and it was all she could do for a moment to avoid contact with his blade. A quick twist and a flash of shunpo, and as the presumptuous soldier found himself hurtling through the air Yoruichi made a mental note to commend his efforts later; that attack had almost hit home. Glancing about long enough to determine that her squad was largely defeated and she had little to worry about anymore – aside from training them harder, as they obviously had need of it – she spared a final jab at Griffin.

_If you're so annoyed that Benihime already has bankai, then why don't we just even the stakes?_

For a long moment Griffin stilled, which was just as well; it gave Yoruichi time enough to put her last few opponents on the ground, groaning and clutching themselves in various states of agony. She restrained a sniff; this was her first true sparring session with her new legions, and it was important she make a good impression. A little defeat would only galvanize them to greater efforts.

Finally, feathers rippled in her head. _You are young yet, Princess, and I will not make it easy on you. It will take more sacrifice than you can imagine to subdue me. Yet._.. Yoruichi held her breath, waiting while her soul marshaled itself.

_If you wish to seek my submission, I will not deny you. I will fight, as is my right. But I will not refuse you victory, should you earn it_.

Yoruichi let her breath out slowly, trying not to let the jubilation on her face show. She knew Griffin would sense it anyway; that could not be helped. But she did not wish her downed squad to see her grinning and misinterpret her glee; it would not do to foster a habit of gloating over battles won. It was poor form. For their benefit, she scowled instead, even as she took a moment to accept Griffin's concession.

_Then, my friend, we meet on the soulplane. Soon, at that_. As Griffin settled down within her, Yoruichi turned her truncated glare on her groaning subordinates.

"Is this the best that the Secret Mobile Corps has to offer?? I can see I took command not a moment too soon; you've gotten lazy under your predecessor. Much improvement can be had; we'll start first thing in the morning. Gods only know how long it will take me to whip you brats into shape..."

That brought some indignant glares from the few SMC members who still had their wits about them; technically insubordinate, but Yoruichi let that pass. Loyalty was prized in the SMC, and as Yoruichi had only taken over leadership within the last day, it would not do to punish those still angry over the usurpation of their former leader. Yoruichi had plenty of time to break such feelings, remolding their unswerving loyalty to herself. But such things took finesse; better to let them hate her for now. She would earn their respect before they even know what was happening. The Shihouin princess made her way among the groaning squad, dropping scathing comments here and there and making sure the more injured ones were too angry to die before help and healing arrived. Finally, she stalked away from the training grounds.

Yoruichi's outward confidence well hid her churning mind. The past few days – hell, the past year for that matter – weighed on her like a relentless whirlwind. She had little memory of her final moments training with Kisuke..._noise, chaos, pain_...and even fewer of what transpired after. The few miserable moments in Fourth, saying goodbye, the tormented guilt in Kisuke's eyes that still haunted her. After that, the interminable weeks of recovery under the care of Fourth and the sharp eyes of her Clansmen. Though she was dutifully visited by ostensibly concerned Shihouins, their coy inquiries belied their scathing desire to find out what had injured her. For that matter, Unohana herself had been little less inquisitive...

No stranger to intrigue, Yoruichi had deftly parried every pseudo interrogation, even though she knew from the light in her mother's eyes that suspicion had not been fully allayed. And then the months it had taken to get back to her old self, back to fighting condition. Months during which it had taken all of abilities to fight through the grueling physical therapy, all the while setting into motion the long-laid plans that would see her gaining control of the SMC...

A flash of raw reiatsu halted Yoruichi in her steps. She scanned the surrounding training courtyards, trying to find the source... Gods, it was ragged, but strong! The familiar sound of mid-spar bandery caught her sensitive ears.

"Standing out, even though you're a _female_!"

In a flash, Yoruichi was perched atop a courtyard wall, peering down at the combatants within - Keigun corps, by their robes. A tiny slip of a figure was flickering smartly among the larger, bulkier opponents surrounding her, feet and hands flashing. Yoruichi felt her fist clench; the odds stacked against the youngster were barely within the bounds of fair-fight parameters, but a moment's hesitation stilled her intervention. Biding her time, she watched with interest while the child took out several larger senior soldiers, moderately impressed despite herself. When three incensed soldiers converged on the child simultaneously, the Shihouin princess decided it was time to jump in after all.

It only took a handful of flash steps and a few well-placed kicks to put down the remaining opponents. At her back, a flash; Yoruichi kicked instinctively...

The kick was stopped, to Yoruichi's everlasting shock. She found herself gaping at fierce blue eyes, full of lethal determination, before the child recognized her - fair enough, considering how recently Yoruichi had risen to power. The child blanched in horror, the deeply-ingrained respect for her commander causing enough of a hesitation to leave an opening; one scissor-legged flip and the girl was on the ground.

Intrigued, Yoruichi approached the tiny figure. Tendrils of reiatsu floated off the slender frame in waves; Yoruichi very nearly smiled, but held her stern visage in check.

"What's your name?"

The child righted herself quickly enough. "I- I'm Soi Fon."

Yoruichi bit back another grin at the ferocity in the big, dark eyes, at odds with the passive tone. "Is that so?" Just that; let the child make of it what she will.

After a moment, she silently turned and walked away. _Soi Fon, hm? Pretty strong name for such a little thing_… In the back of her mind, she made a note to summon the child for evaluation as soon as was prudent. It would not do to show any kind of favoritism so early in her reign as head of SMC, but the girl's potential was undeniable..._In a few years, then. Maybe_. If the child managed to survive one of the toughest divisions in the SMC, perhaps her talents could be honed...

Turning the corner, Yoruichi nearly sighed to herself. A long year, and longer yet to come before she could see any of her and Kisuke's long-term strategies come to fruition. So far, things were more or less going according to plan; she ruled the SMC, although her power had yet to be solidified. After a year of cajoling, her zanpaktou had finally agreed to bankai training. Put the two together, and her potential for advancement would be invaluable later….

When they were together again. It felt like an eternity already, and there was still so much to do...At least now, she would be able to spy on him. It was small consolation, but it was something.

_I'll be ready on the other side, Kisuke,_ she thought silently, allowing herself a moment of selfish loneliness. _Gods, please don't take forever…_

* * *

Alone in his laboratory, a slim and solitary figure chanted silently to himself.

_Breathe, Kisuke...just breathe_...

Too much to take in at once. It wasn't that Urahara was unaccustomed to racing thoughts, ideas tumbling a mile a minute, charging down the tracks of his mind like a freight train… if anything, they were second nature to him.

He just wasn't used to the ramifications of such intense and unexpected information. He almost called them emotions, but halted himself just short of sentimentality.

_Chaos sword. I have a chaos zanpaktou. That can't be an insurmountable obstacle; hell the Captain Commander himself has one, and he's not only survived but is in complete control of the entire Gotei._..

A hard swallow. In complete control of his subordinates perhaps, but a scathing review of Yamamoto's choice of words brought the inevitable reminder.

_Well, just because Yamamoto Genruusai claims a chaos sword cannot be controlled does not mean that is the only possible outcome._._.I could test for other possibilities_...

Controlling his breathing by sheer will, Kisuke barely noticed the familiar surroundings of his laboratory but he was glad for his solitude, the austere environment helping to calm him. As if by habit, his thoughts turned to a scientific mien, flying a million miles an hour and in a thousand different directions.

_Control...how does one gain control of chaos? It's not logical, too many forces at work at once...flying, jumbling, dancing out of control..opposing each other..._

.._.too many forces in one place..._

_...different kinds of spirit power in one place...within one spirit being..._

_...how is that even possible...?_

"Oiy."

The wry hail drew Kisuke from his reflections. By the time his glowing gray eyes took in a dark-haired figure standing at the lab entrance, he wasn't at all surprised; there was only one person who could approach so closely without betraying even a hint of reiatsu.

"Isshin." Kisuke allowed his brain a picosecond to file away his previous train of thought for later evaluation; something there had twigged his fascination. He forced an amiable expression onto his face. "I thought you were patrolling in the real world."

What with his singular abilities to hide reiatsu, it really wasn't surprising that Isshin was often selected for real world assignments. Having a shinigami of Kurosaki's power level that could use his reiatsu without having a discernible effect on normal humans was considered a boon to any inter-dimensional foray. As a result, Urahara had seen little of the wild-eyed shinigami over the last year.

Kurosaki grinned and sauntered in. "I was. We just got back this morning." Stopping a few feet away from Urahara, Isshin observed his former roommate with a suddenly calculating eyes. "What the hell have you been up to, you lousy bastard?"

Kisuke glanced at him, his gaze sharpening but again without surprise. That someone as sensitive to reiatsu as Kurosaki could tell that Urahara had achieved bankai went without saying. Trying to prevaricate would gain him nothing, and Isshin deserved better from him. As if in defeat, Kisuke let a smile twitch across his lips.

"Well you know me, always in over my head." Kisuke suddenly felt old and tired, even as he tried for one of his carefree grins.

Isshin wasn't inclined to let him off that easily, snorting with gusto. "That's gotta be the understatement of the millennium." Dark eyes glittered a little too knowingly. "Yamamoto knows, doesn't he? Sure as hell explains the crazy reiatsu I felt swirling around First earlier..." Suddenly he broke in to a grin. "Holy shitballs, Kisuke, every time I think I got you beat in the crazy department, you go and pull a stunt like this."

"I like to spur you to greater efforts." The familiar jibing helped; Kisuke found his grin coming easier, and he allowed himself a moment to regret not letting his best friend in on his secret earlier. "What brings you here, might I ask? I thought your battalion was supposed to be on assignment until Winter Festival..."

Kurosaki chortled. "You really can't keep time at all, can you? Winter Festival is tomorrow, baka. I got the best seats in the house, and a few willing companions from Tenth all lined up...who else would I share with but my best crazy idiot friend?!"

Kisuke smothered a grin and didn't bother affecting affront at the procured company; Isshin might share his seats, but Kisuke had no doubts whatsoever that both lovely women would be for Kurosaki. _Everyone_ turned out for the Winter Festival; it was the biggest fireworks event of the year. Absently, Urahara wondered if Kuukaku had found her crimson yet. It had been barely a week since she stalked off after their spat, but he could probably find time now, if she swallowed enough pride to let him...

As if reading his mind, Isshin spoke casually. "Although I hear the fireworks are going to be a bit of a let-down this year..."

Urahara's ears pricked. "Oh really?" If there was derisive scuttlebutt about the upcoming fireworks display, it would be best if Kuukaku didn't hear of it.

"Yeah, ever since the lead fireworks designer all but blew herself up."

Urahara wrenched to a halt, gaping at Isshin. The dark-haired man feigned innocence, but his eyes were a bit too sympathetic. "Word is she was trying to find a specific color, and the chanting went askew..."

Kisuke's hand was suddenly bunching up Isshin's kimono, white-knuckled; for the life of him, he couldn't remember moving. "_What are you talking about?_"

Kisuke must have looked a fright; Isshin's brown eyes bore a heart-rending sympathy. "The girl survived, but she's in rough shape. They say she lost an ar..."

No more. Kisuke could bear no more. Between one heartbeat and the next, he was gone.

Isshin remained a moment longer, monitoring his friend's reiatsu as it dwindled in the direction of Fourth squad, before grunting and vanishing in his own flare of shunpo.

* * *

Kuukaku was wide awake by the time her visitor arrived but she kept her body still and her breathing steady, allowing her eyelashes to drift open only the minutest hair. After all, it was well after dark and it's not like the guest came calling in the traditional sense. Neither was it her first visitor since she'd roused out of her coma a few days prior, but it was by far her most unexpected. But there it was, an unmistakable scratching sound at the open window...

Repressing a purr, the tiny black cat hovered at the open window, her lithe form and delicate paws finding purchase on the smooth wood. The golden-eyed feline perched in silhouette for a long moment, taking in the room. Kuu knew what the beast was seeing, nothing terribly out of the ordinary for a Fourth ward room: the bed, its occupant, a simple chair or two. For her part, the recovering Shiba could hardly guess what might warrant such a visitor, and in such a form at that. Tiny black ears flicked for long moments, most likely searching for any hint of an approaching attendant. Not likely; Kuukaku had recently been medicated and her dressings changed, and little remained but for her to rest and let her spirit body heal itself.

Eventually satisfied, that cat dropped soundlessly in to the room and padded across the floor. A few more ear twitches, and she gathered itself for a quick jump onto starched white sheets.

For a long time, the black form remained poised on the end of the bed, purring softly. Kuu very nearly rolled her eyes, but sighed in defeat instead. Shibas might not have the best opinion of the spy clan, but it could not be denied that Shihouins were observant and if Yoruichi didn't already know she was awake, Kuu would lick her bedpan. When the silence stretched and Kuukaku's already dubious patience ran its course, little more than a flick of slender tail belied the feline's amusement.

"I'm allergic to cats, you know."

Yoruichi sniffed, padding softly across the soft sheets. "If you'd rather not have company, I can go..."

"Naw, stay. I'm bored as all hell." Piercing blue eyes blazed from behind tousled black bangs; Kuukaku very nearly smiled but remembered to scowl instead. "Must be a slow day spying for _you_ to bother dropping by."

Yoruichi allowed a growl to slip past her sharp teeth; it was remarkably effective in cat form. "Well, it sure as hell took you long enough to get out of your coma; it's been nearly a month since-" Yoruichi bit off the rest, suddenly finding a spot of fur to groom.

But Kuukaku was a Shiba and only grinned. "Since I blew my damn arm off? Bah," she scowled disdainfully, although her blue eyes avoided the bandaged stump protruding from her right shoulder. "It was bothering me so I taught it a lesson, is all. Don't think a silly scratch like this will slow me down!!"

"I wouldn't dream of implying it," Yoruichi purred drolly, suddenly warming up into a kittenish grin. Just that quickly the energy in the room shifted; though Shibas and Shiouin rarely interacted, there had always been a sort of distant fascination between the two noblewomen. Yoruichi's rebellious streak was hardly as secret as the Shihouins had hoped, and few things attracted Kuu's interest more than someone refusing to play by the rules. The occasional meeting at various Clan meetings had only allowed a cursory interaction, but now that they had a moment or two together Kuukaku found she rather liked the Shiouin kitten.

Yoruichi seemed to feel the same, pawing blithely at a delicate black ear. "Though if you'd meant to purge yourself of an errant limb, you could have saved it for the show – I hear the kidou flash your 'incident' produced in the labs was the most brilliant crimson color..."

Kuukaku grimaced, hard. "Don't remind me. You'll see it in a show someday, I swear – even if it takes my other arm!!" It was only half in jest; Kuukaku was nothing if not determined. Not that she relished the experience of losing an arm, but if Shibas excelled at anything other than fireworks, it would be a tie between nursing healthy egos and making the best out of a lousy situation.

Clearly amused, Yoruichi twitched, her form becoming momentarily hazy; Kuukaku wondered if she was considering changing forms, but she seemed to decide against it. Even now, here, there was such thing as propriety.

"Then you'd have no arms left," the cat retorted, allowing a purr to take the sting from her words.

"Naw, I'd just get another replacement." Just that quickly, Kuukaku allowed her azure eyes to sparkle keenly, a hair too knowingly. She might not be a Shiouin, but she knew a secret or two. She had only seen the cat in the same room as a certain young scientist once before, but only an idiot would have missed the energy that surged between the two.

"Replacement...?" Observant indeed, it only took a moment for Yoruichi to notice the jointed object sitting awkwardly on the bedside table. Curious, she padded over towards the gleaming metal. Kuu restrained a superior smirk while the feline took in the strange item.

It was an arm. Fully reticulated and perfectly modeled after Kuukaku's remaining limb, a perfect pair in form and function. Yoruichi's tail twitched, once, twice. A long pause; when she spoke, her gravelly voice reached for nonchalance and failed. miserably

"Does it perform exactly the same as...as-?" Yoruichi could hardly tear her eyes from the masterpiece.

Kuukaku grimaced. "Don't know yet; my stump is still too tender to try it, and as you mentioned, I only just emerged from my coma." Only the tiniest hitch belied underlying passion in the Shiba's voice; lying in bed and doing nothing was almost unbearable for a Shiba. "But I have it on the greatest authority that it will work the same as the old arm, probably even better."

A long minute passed while Yoruichi found her voice, gravelly as it was. Even then, it was almost a whisper. "I have no doubt it will be magnificent." Tentatively, she reached out a paw to touch the smooth surface.

There was something nearly heartbreaking in the motion; Kuukaku felt something prickling at her eyes and retreated into a snort, breaking the spell. Shibas were not sentimental pansies, dammit.

"Yeah well, I refuse to give him that much credit. It will be tolerable, probably. _Maybe_. Damn fool has enough ego as it is; you won't catch me feeding it." Kuu blinked rapidly, finding it hard to mention Kisuke by name; dammit, what did she care if two people were madly in love?

Yoruichi seemed to notice, suddenly coming back to her senses with an abrupt shake even though her paw lingered for a second longer. Turning towards the open window, she started to make her retreat.

"It's good to see you alive and recovering, Shiba Kuukaku. The Gotei needs all the shinigami Clansmen it can get. Let me know if there's anything I can do..."

"There is one thing." The sharp tone drew Yoruichi up short; halting with paw mid-step, she glanced over her black little shoulder.

Kuukaku pinned the creature's curious gold eyes with a grimly determined gaze, all playfulness gone. "You could train with me. Once I get out of here I mean. I need to relearn how to use my right arm, and I know kidou..." The moment got too serious for a Shiba, so her wry grin came back along with sparkling blue eyes. "Work the kinks out, you know?" In another swooping emotional swing, her face tightened in a hint of sadness. "I'd like to keep learning, and no squad will have me without an arm, replacement or no. And my zanpaktou is _just_ on the edge of emerging, I _know_ it..."

The near-wistfulness in her voice, much as Kuu hated the vulnerable slip, seemed to reach the feline noblewoman. Kuu bit her tongue, praying to the gods that if this woman was of the same mind and passion as Urahara, she might recognize and respect the intense desire to reach potential against all odds. It was Kuukaku's only chance at finishing her training; Kisuke had already told her, eyes immersed in guilty regret, that he would not be able to use his powers any longer to help train her...cutting off that train of thought, Kuu held her breath and waited for the cat's reply.

"Of course I'll train with you." Said a little too quickly, which caught Kuu off-guard; despite the new-found regard between them, there was still a sort of formal distance that ought to be maintained between noblewomen of different clan strati. Yoruichi's eagerness more than anything spoke of the bond the Shiouin must have with Kisuke. "When I have time. You have my word."

The Shiba woman settled back onto her pillows, awash with a gratefulness she couldn't show. "No worries, I ain't going anywhere soon. It wouldn't be right away anyway, I gotta go through prosthetic adjustments and such..."

Without another word, Yoruichi leaped straight from the bed to the window frame, pausing once to look back over her shoulder. Kuukaku could swear the cat suppressed a small smile before disappearing into the dark beyond.

Finally free to grin, Kuukaku settled down into her pillows and let her eyes drift in the direction of her new arm. She might not be a master of subtleties, but Kuu would have had to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss the emotion in the cat's eyes, or mistake the heartache her friend Kisuke had been suffering for the last year. She had no idea what had happened and frankly didn't care; Shiba's didn't bother with such details.

_I don't know why you can't be together, you dumb idiots, but at least you can share a friend. _The un-Shiba-like thought riddled Kuukaku with a dangerously warm and fuzzy feeling as she drifted off to sleep.


	16. Balance

All the breath tore out of his lungs as Kisuke's back slammed up against a wall. This entire section of Rukongai, abandoned and derelict, was empty and silent but for the ragged gasps the he couldn't control. Throat burning, Urahara gulped for air and tried to force his vision to clear. The humming in his head nearly deafened him as his eyes roved, piercing silver gaze glinting into every shadow.

_Where are you, you son of a bitch...?_

His opponent was close. _Very_ close - Urahara would stake his life on it. So far, at least a dozen times this day, he already had. Willing the tremor of fatigue out of his arms, Kisuke wiped the metallic taste of blood out of his mouth and, with infinite care, peered around the nearest corner.

A wave of searing heat washed over him the instant his forelocks cleared the edge. With a curse, Kisuke flipped out of the way, summoning kido for the inter-dimensional twist that would see him clear of danger. He popped back into existence high in the sky, settling his spirit body onto a hastily arranged platform of invisible spirit particles. By all appearances hovering in thin air, Kisuke tried to control his slamming heart as he searched desperately for some hint of his adversary.

**I could help, Lover. **Benihime whispered, barely louder than the breeze. **I can taste the fire of his heartbeat....let me show you.**..

Swallowing painfully, Kisuke thrust his zanpaktou's voice from his head and forced himself to concentrate on the very real danger hiding somewhere among the abandoned buildings below, their hollow windows gaping balefully back at him. He didn't bother to answer Benihime; he'd long ago discovered that engaging in banter was a quick way to surrendering control. And losing control meant losing everything he'd worked for so far....

"_Focus!"_

The gravelly shout echoed from no particular point, sending a lightening bolt through Urahara. Gripping his hilt, his eyes darted frantically but he never even saw a hint of motion before his opponent's reiatsu washed over him; one moment Kisuke was alone in the sky, the next he was engulfed in flames.

_Shit!_ Gritting his teeth, Kisuke endured the very real sensation of burning alive and tried to clear his head enough to think of a way out of this...

Thrumming in his head, and suddenly the heat abated. The cool breeze of Benihime's whisper butterflied across his consciousness.

**Join me Lover; together we are invincible**...

For a long moment, Kisuke wavered. Just that much, just that instant of hesitation, and already he could feel strength infusing his limbs, felt the intoxicating rush of pure, scintillating power as Benihime rose up to engulf him...

* * *

With a pained grunt, Yoruichi collapsed onto a bed of leaves, deep within the forest. Felled by her own opponent, and not for the first time this day – or was it week? - she breathed raggedly into the loamy earth and felt every single wound blossoming across her body. She was pretty sure she could feel broken bones grinding, but the pain was oddly removed. The absent thought flitted through her mind that she just might die here; no, that wasn't possible. Sooner or later that Soi Fon kid would find her. The child hung about her like a leach, and even a Shihouin's prowess never lost the talented little sycophant for long....

_Yes, Princess. She is nearly as tenacious as you are._ Griffin stared in disdain down at Yoruichi; from his perch atop a nearby rock outcropping, the manifestation seemed equal parts impatience and boredom. _Now, pick me up – we begin again_.

An agonized groan rumbled out of Yoruichi; for the briefest of moments she considered just laying still. She was so _tired_.... Griffin's disapproval surged through her chest, and with a grunt Yoruichi forced herself up onto her elbows. Furiously, she glared at her zanpaktou.

"Gimme a break – we've been doing this for _years_, and I'm not even close to releasing you." The raw taste of failure bittered her mouth, followed swiftly by envy. _It only took Kisuke three days, and the Tenshintai be damned_.... She forced the thought away, though the lingering frustration rankled. "You promised you would let me achieve bankai-" Yoruichi bit off, the words sounding petulant even to her.

_I said I would not _deny_ you bankai. I said you would have to earn it. _Without another word, Griffin launching himself at her; Yoruichi dove out of the way of his golden claws, scrambling through the leaf cover for the slender katana she knew was there somewhere. Behind her, Griffin roared. _I also said I would not make it easy on you!_

_Dammit!! _Yoruichi dodged again, barely.

Griffin rounded on her, his eagle wings spread across the glen, blotting out what little sunlight filtered through the thick leafy canopy. _Achieving bankai is not a gift, Princess. It is the greatest sacrifice a soul can offer – and the greatest reward_. A golden tail whipped around, screaming through the air as it sliced towards Yoruichi's head.

_There! _Slender, calloused fingers finally found hilt; tearing her katana out of the underbrush, Yoruichi whipped it around in a spray of dead leaves to block the blow aimed at her eyes.

The tail stopped a hair's breath from her face. _FUCK, Griffin! Are you trying to blind me!?_ Yoruichi twisted, dropped clear and was across the glen in a single bound.

_No – I am trying to make you see_. With another roar, Griffin took off after her through the trees....

* * *

_NO! _With every ounce of strength he had, Kisuke forced his zanpaktou away from seizing control of his soul. _Fuck off, Benihime._..

His soul slayer chuckled licentiously. **I love it when you talk dirty**...

Kisuke growled, fighting off a tiny smile. Damn, her vicious playfulness got his blood racing, no matter how dangerous he new it was to listen to her. It reminded him of endless hours with Yoruichi, dueling mixed with foreplay...he shoved the thought aside. Only once had he let such comparison leak through to Benihime, and he still shuddered at the memory of her reaction.

The flames around him intensified; Kisuke actually felt his clothes starting to smoke. _Focus, dammit. The old man's right....focus_.... He was in danger, and he had to find the way out before his life was seriously threatened.

**Or, you could keep thinking about your snooty little trollop and get us both killed**. Benihime purred, a vicious undertone somewhat marring the effect.

"Yeah, you'd love that." Kisuke muttered back, his eyes trying to find the pattern in the flames surrounding them. "All it would take is impending death for you to take over..." He grit his teeth.

There wasn't much Urahara feared, but losing his reason to Benihime – _again_ – was at the top of a very short list. He knew all too well what he was capable of with her loose, had sworn on his soul never to let it happen again.

And still so far, over the long years of his training, he had yet to stop her.

At least they were safe, here, in this mini-dimension created specifically for training purposes. Here, when he failed, Kisuke would not have to worry about any deaths on his conscience.

The training was brutal, but effective – Yamamoto-sensei pummeled him with raw power, pushing him closer and closer to the brink of death. And slowly, month by month, year by year, Kisuke had managed to stave off that final descent into mortal desperation that saw all his raw instinct taking over. He could hold up for hours now, days even. The longer he held out, the more confident he became, a semblance of control dangling tantalizingly close with every moment longer that he managed to hold Benihime in check....

But she always won in the end. Every soul experienced a moment of sheer panic in the instant before death claimed then; it was then, every single time, the Benhime would seize her chance. The fact that she saved Kisuke's life in the process was hardly consolation.

The flames burned higher; Kisuke's eyes started to water, panic slowly rising in his chest along with a surge of feral anticipation from Benihime. Turn though he might, he couldn't find an exit from the flames that surrounded him. That made no sense; Yamamoto-sensai always left him a way out. It was part of the challenge, to find it before the fear for his own life gave Benihime the opening she needed to seize control. Without it, without that hope, he couldn't hold onto his sanity....

_The exit,_ Kisuke thought desperately, _where is the fucking exit?!_

Benihime started to chuckle.

* * *

Shunpo was worse than useless against her soul slayer, Yoruichi had discovered. Her zanpaktou knew more about her than even she did and outrunning Griffin was not an option. Even as she sped through the forest, flora and fauna that she and Kisuke had long ago discovered together blurring into nothingness around her, she knew it was hopeless. Griffin would find her, more surely than anything.

No one was fast enough to outrun their own soul.

As if to prove her point, Griffin dropped out of the trees right in front of her. Yoruichi veered sharply to the right, even as something tugged viciously at her hindbrain. She felt suddenly numbed, as if she had stumbled onto something vastly important. Something she needed to know, something she _had_ to figure out in order to gain control...

A tree crumpled under Griffith's passage, right on her heels; distracted, Yoruichi tried to cling to the delicate threads of revelation as she darted clear.

_Think, Yoruichi – THINK! You've got a brain dammit – use it! Kisuke would have figured this out in a heartbeat._..

Griffin roared behind her, quickening her flagging steps. _Dammit! How am I supposed to figure anything out when I'm trying to fight a damned zanpaktou into submission!! _Furious, tears of frustration hindering her sight, Yoruichi pressed harder, trying to get clear of Griffin long enough to have a damn moment to herself....

_I just need a damn minute!!_

Just like that, the grain of thought blazed into clarity.

Yoruichi ground to a halt. Half a heartbeat later, Griffin dropped to the ground next to her. Not attacking, no longer chasing. Poised on the edge of the glen, barely an arms breadth away, her zanpaktou dropped into a dignified stillness that mirrored her own.

Coolly, he waited.

A moment ticked glacially by while she carefully chose her words. "I'm not going to achieve your submission by fighting you, am I?" Yoruichi asked, her eyes narrow. She felt inexplicably calm.

Griffin watched her for a moment, before a glimmer of something hard to define lit his eyes. _No, Princess._

"Why not?"

A long pause; the glimmer turned into something anticipatory. Hopeful almost. _Because nobility does not force a servant into submission. A ruler _claims_ that which is theirs. If you wish to command me, Princess, you must only rightfully claim that which is yours._

_This has to be too easy. _Yoruichi watched Griffin carefully. "Very well then," she said slowly, "I hereby claim my bankai."

Sure enough, Griffin chuckled_. You know very well that it will take more than that._

"What will it take?" Yoruichi snapped, hardly finding any of this amusing.

_More than you can imagine, _Griffin whispered. His tail swished slowly, deliberately._ In order to claim my service, you must first gain my respect._

Yoruichi felt her breath freeze in her lungs. The ring of truth set her heart racing in eagerness. "And how am I to do that?" She cocked her head, wary. Something was not as it seemed here...

_You ASK._ Griffin's eyes glittered dangerously. There was an air about him that set Yoruichi's hackles rising; it made her think of a leopard before it launched itself for a kill.

"All I have to do is ask for you submission?" Her eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you – you said that you would not make achieving bankai easy for me."

_I never said it would not be _simple. Griffin insisted. _Easy and simple are not the same_.

Yoruichi thought about that for a very long time. Something wasn't right here....but it was worth a try. "Very well then - May I have your respect?"

_Perhaps. For a price, of course_. Suddenly Griffin shifted, full of an impending sense of satisfaction that made Yoruichi grip the hilt of her katana harder. _Respect is not bestowed, it is earned_.

_Ah. There's the catch_. Yoruichi felt herself rise on her toes, balancing like a warrior facing an mortal threat. It occurred to her that as odd as it might seem to be fighting for bankai through dialogue alone, this in itself was a kind of battle all it's own. Slowly, she walked into what she knew was a setup.

"Then what exactly must I do to earn your respect?"

Griffin's eyes caught fire, victorious. _You must surrender that which you love most. Then - and only then - will I submit to you, Princess._

A cold, leaden sensation seeped through Yoruichi. _That which I love most_.... As the price of her bankai hit her heart like a ton of bricks, she threw a widening gaze of horror at her triumphant soul slayer.

_Yes, Princess. In order to have my service, you must agree to give up your infatuation with Urahara Kisuke, _Griffin purred. _Forever_....

* * *

He was almost done for.

Kisuke pulled liquid fire into his lungs, the last few breaths he had. Try as he might, he couldn't escape this fiery trap; either he was simply failing again, or Yamamoto had finally ensnared him in an inferno with no way out, no exit. He felt the hot, sickening rush of Benihime as she rose up in him, her siren song splitting his reason into shreds as she surged for the cracks in his sanity...

And then, suddenly, a silent shock-wave invaded Kisuke's rapidly fading awareness. It was a pulse of pure, raw spirit power that hit him full force, washed over him in waves of dark intensity, thrashing with a voracity of passion fit to match Benihime's chaotic wildness.

Kisuke had no idea how or why, but in an instant he knew it was Yoruichi.

He'd know the feel of her anywhere. Even though here, now, in this secluded dimension in which he trained, where it was all but impossible for him to sense her...against all logic, there she was.

And whatever was happening to her, she was in pain. Sickening, gut-wrenching agony, too overwhelming to comprehend. It felt, for all the world, like she was dying from the inside out and crying for him from the depths of her soul....

The same way she'd felt the night he almost killed her.

_The night Benihime had almost killed her._

Something within Kisuke caught, grabbed hold, and refused to be moved.

The next few moments were terrible; pulled on one side by the chaotic furor of Benihime, wrenched on the other by the soul-deep love of his soul-mate and lover....for an eternity Urahara felt like he was splitting in two. Yoruichi purred his name in desperation, while Benihime screamed for his soul....

And then, suddenly, the pain was gone.

Held perfectly in balance between the two forces – Yoruichi and all he loved, Benhimie and all he feared – Kisuke found himself hovering in a clear, quiet calm.

Both sides of his soul balanced. And there, in the middle, was the answer.

For the first time, Urahara got a good look at the vast ocean of power that was his reiatsu, its ends spreading out from him in wide swaths that vanished into the horizon; the very breadth and depth of it stole the moisture from his mouth. It felt like he was suspended in the eye of an immense hurricane. Kisuke felt his power surging through him, around him, flowing back and forth between the love and the hate. It wasn't peaceful – it was rather like walking a tightrope made out of razor-sharp wire, high above a sea of crystal shards. The slightest imbalance one way or the other, and he would be sliced to ribbons.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life and yet, he was doing it.

It was, he finally realized, exactly what he'd been seeking. Control over his soul.

The sensation of Yoruichi had finally faded – whether that was really her that he had felt no longer mattered. Her momentary intrusion had given him the key, and this roiling, elegantly glorious internal spirit world was now his.

It was a long time before Kisuke realized tears were streaming down his face. It was even longer before he realized that his Teacher had joined him, and stood waiting for him to recover from the intoxicating joy of achieving the only control over his bankai he would ever have.

Yamamoto slowly, quietly grunted.

"Well done, my brilliant young student. Lesson One - clear."


	17. Revelations

Slipping deftly between the trees, Soi Fon controlled her breathing and concentrated on moving through the thick underbrush without so much as a whisper of sound.

It was a game, a little contest with herself, to see how silent and stealthy she could be, a skill that came in handy, especially when one was the smallest member of the SMC and a girl besides. As much as Soi Fon hated to be dismissed, being all but invisible had proven handy on innumerable occasions. The more disregarded, the more underestimated she was, the more useful she could be to her superiors. Well, _superior _- deep within her fierce little heart, Soi Fon had already folded her loyalty to the SMC as a whole into an overriding devotion, body and soul, to the incomparable Shihouin princess. Yoruichi-sama (because alone in her head, she would never DARE refer to her as Yoruichi-san, no matter what her orders) was the living embodiment of everything Soi Fon worshiped and adored, everything she lived for. In her mind, putting Yoruichi-sama ahead of clan or corps was not a dereliction of duty, but the ultimate culmination of bone-bred loyalty.

Which made it just slightly difficult to reconcile her current task, but Soi Fon refused to rise to the bait of her sensitive conscience. So what if her squad leader had sent her in search of Yoruichi-sama? The other SMC members as well as the Shihouin clan in general - constantly frustrated by the princess' frequent disappearances - often sent her on such missions to find their leader. Soi Fon had a preternatural knack for finding her idol, and while she had earned a reputation for success, she never reported Yoruichi-sama's whereabouts unless Yoruichi-sama herself had allowed it. So, unconcerned with her purpose, Soi Fon lept through the forest in the direction of the very person she had become so good at finding.

Not that it was easy. Not only was Yoruichi-sama especially adept at hiding her reiatsu fluctuations (constantly shifting what little signature she couldn't completely smother into patterns all but indistinguishable from the spirit world around her; a feat on par with her shapeshifting, both of which talents were mysteries no one seemed to be able to solve) but she was fast as lightening and just keeping up with her paragon usually took most of Soi Fon's still-burgeoning skills. At least Yoruichi-sama's sparring partner was not nearly so skilled, and between those flares of reiatsu and the occasional clang of metal on metal, Soi Fon was able to close in on her targets just enough to catch the occasional glimpse.

That, and that inevitable sparring banter.

"Oh come on, that was pathetic!"

A playful growl as the Shiba took natural umbrage. "You're calling _me _pathetic!?" The outraged howl was followed promptly by a small explosion that nonetheless managed to be artfully colored.

Yoruichi-sama's turn to howl in affront. "Hey, you promised no fireworks!"

"_You _promised no shunpo!"

"You were about to take off my _head_, Kuu!!"

"Excuses excuses - among Shibas, a promise is a promise!!"

Soi Fon was quite used to such exchanges, so she refused to let herself brindle at the slight against Shihouin honor. She still thought it was inappropriate for Yoruichi-sama to allow such disgraceful talk from someone so far beneath her, but naturally would never consider questioning her idol. Gritting her teeth, she flitted after the dueling pair; over rocks, around trees, skittering across a river bend. One quick bound around an outcropping brought the sparring partners into full view for a brief moment.

Yoruichi-sama, clad in her usual skin-hugging black, danced with elegant danger around the brightly-robed Shiba woman, who despite her obvious concentration was still grinning in feral glee. Every few blade thrusts, the sun would catch against her right arm and glint blindingly for a split second, an effect the woman seemed to use to her advantage. At the very least, the glints were timed to coincide with various attacks, and even the indefatigable Yoruichi-sama grunted every once in a while as blade met flesh.

The Shiba woman grunted and grinned wider. "What the hell?? Are you trying to be nice or something? That strike should not have connected and you know it."

Yoruichi-sama flipped backwards and paused momentarily atop a tree branch to grin back. "Well, I don't want you to get too discouraged. And I know how much you enjoy drawing blood."

"_Teme_, that's just _sick_," Kuukaku replied with a chortle. "I don't need your charity."

"It's not charity." Suddenly, Yoruichi-sama was behind the woman, dealing a blow to her forearm that would have dropped a normal person. As it was, it let out a dull clang and sent the Shiba's sword skittering off with little more than a grunt from Kuukaku. Yoruichi-sama's grin deepened. "You're getting damn hard to fight off, you know, prosthetic or no." With that and a smirk, she turned and bounded off into the forest.

Leaving an outraged Shiba to snatch up her sword and take off after her. "_Dammit_, you can't just compliment me like that!! Get back here so I can kick your skinny little ass!!" And so the chase continued.

It was quite some time before Soi Fon got close enough for another glimpse, and by the time she did she was sticky with sweat and exertion. The pair of women in the ravine before her seemed little better off as they caught their breath; glancing at the sky, Soi Fon noted with relief that the sun was getting low. Very rarely did they spar past sundown.

"Don't tell me I hurt you?" Soi Fon's eyes darted back to the glen; Yoruichi-sama was addressing Kuukaku with curious concern as the Shiba massaged her right arm.

"No, but I think you dented the damn thing," Kuukaku groused, rubbing her metallic limb with annoyance. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get this fixed??"

A single eyebrow arched. "Well, seeing as there's only one person who could do repairs..." Yoruichi-sama purred, a strange timbre leaking into her voice.

Kuukaku just snorted. "Yeah, assuming I can _find _him. Freaking bastard is even harder to track down than you are. All he does now is train; he's almost never in his lab anymore."

There was an awkward pause; Yoruichi-sama became suddenly absorbed in cleaning her zanpaktou. "You're doing better every day," she stated, a little too loudly. "You'll be ready for a Squad in no time. Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't already submitted for a position..."

"Why do you keep doing that?" Kuukaku's eyes took on that dark sharpness that could be so suddenly disconcerting.

Eyes Yoruichi-sama refused to meet. "Doing what?"

"Up until a few months ago, you couldn't get enough information about him. Now you change the subject every time I drop hints, and dammit if being subtle isn't hard for a Shiba!" Kuukaku glared, her eyes sparkling. "I know it's none of my business, but what the fuck is wrong with you two?!"

Yoruichi-sama's grip tightened on her hilt. "It's none of your business, Kuu."

"Like hell it aint!" The Shiba looked like she was ready to spit nails, her voice raising into a feral growl. "First I gotta put up with _his _moony-eyed mopey shit for a year, and then he drops off the face of the planet and it's _your _lovesick mug I have to deal with!" Soi Fon's breath caught in her throat; _lovesick_?? Yoruichi-sama..._love_?? It wasn't possible.... Kuukaku continued to growl. "Why don't you two just run away together and get it the fuck over with!?"

"It's infinitely more complicated than that, Kuukaku." Soi Fon glanced at her paragon with shock; instead of reacting with outrage as she expected, Yoruichi-sama's voice was oddly strangled. She seemed to be wrestling viciously with herself, golden eyes tight and the muscles in her throat working spasmodically. "Don't pretend to understand things you don't know."

"_I _don't know things, huh?" Kuukaku's head tilted, hands on her hips and her whole posture suddenly shifting into something dangerous. "I know you've as good as had your bankai for months now, although why you're too stupid to have fully taken hold of it yet is totally beyond me." Shiba bluntness nearly made Soi Fon see red; Yoruichi-sama audibly sucked in breath and stilled in a way that almost goaded Soi Fon to run to her defense, for what reason she couldn't quite grasp. The Shiba seemed hardly phased, continuing blithely. "Oh knock it off; if you really wanted to hide your bankai, you should have never trained with me. A blind bat could tell you were holding back in combat."

"I _promised _I would train with you," Yoruichi-sama muttered angrily. "And if I _didn_'t hold back, you'd be dead a thousand times over."

"Oh blah blah, big talk. If you're so tough, why won't you answer a simple question?" For all the world, Kuukaku seemed to be almost enjoying this.

"_You're_ challenging _me_, as if I'm the only one holding back?" Yoruichi-sama bit off the words, her golden eyes flashing fire as the unfamiliar tone of defensiveness laced her voice. "You've been good enough of a shinigami to join the Gotei for months and months; why haven't you submitted for admission?? You're lower Seat level, at least."

Kuukaku shook her head slowly, as if slightly disappointed by Yoruichi-sama's prevarication. "This isn't about me, but if you insist on dodging the issue, then I'll teach you how to answer straight." She took a step forward, her chin raised proudly. "Truth is, no Squad will take me now, prosthetic or no. Who cares if the damn arm works even better than my old one? No one else is going to see me as anything but an invalid - _and don't act like you don't already know this_," she continued, raising her voice over Yoruichi-sama's attempts to argue. "We both know it's true; it's why I asked you to train me, and why you agreed." Her midnight blue eyes seemed to pin Yoruichi-sama in place; even Soi Fon had trouble drawing breath under the intensity of that glare. "I'm not fit for the military anymore, and we both know it. Hell, I wasn't ever really sure I wanted to take orders anyway. I'll just have to leave it up to one of my idiot brothers to make the Shiba mark among the Gotei." Finally the intensity of the moment eased as Kuukaku broke off into a classic Shiba wry grin. "I'll just stay home and do what I'm good at - blowing things up and beating the shit out of my knucklehead brothers. Who knows, thanks to our training I might even take over the clan from them - now THAT would be fun!"

Soi Fon must have made a noise, because suddenly both pairs of eyes darted in the direction of the brush under which Soi Fon was hiding. Silently the women exchanged a look and began collecting themselves. Mood broken, Kuukaku chattered blithely.

"Bah, who needs a sword with a personality anyway? More trouble than its worth, if you ask me. I'll take my crazy brothers and incendiaries any day." With a wry grin Kuukaku sheathed her own zanpaktou and glanced at the sky. "Shit, it's late. I gotta scoot." Blue eyes met golden, a certain fierce determination settled in their depths. "I don't think we need to schedule any more training sessions; my path is set, and I won't let you use our sparring as an excuse to escape your own zanpaktou."

Yoruichi-sama's expression turned agonized. "Kuukaku-"

The Shiba cut her off, grabbing her shoulder and giving her a little shake. "You know what? Don't tell me. I don't care. Whatever it is, you'll figure it out or you'll tear the world down around you. I'll believe black is white before I believe that you would let _anything _get the better of you." Her gaze intensified for a split second, even as her metallic fingers dug painfully into Yoruichi-sama's shoulder. "Anyone who truly _knows _you would be seriously disappointed otherwise." With a final grin and a knowing wink, the Shiba disappeared in a whiff of kido.

For a long moment Yoruichi-sama stood staring off into the fading sunset, lost in her thoughts, while Soi Fon sat in frozen silence and wondered if she had finally crossed the line and heard too much. Her mind reeled with all she had gleaned - _Yoruichi-sama having trouble with her bankai?_ The thought was all but sacrilege. As was the thought that her icon might have some kind of secret paramour, but Soi Fon simply blocked the very concept from her mind and did her best to pretend that door had never been opened.

"Oiy, little bee." So lost was she in her raging thoughts, Soi Fon didn't even notice Yoruichi-sama until she was standing over her with a smirk on her face, golden eyes glinting in a way Soi Fon was convinced was for her alone. If not for the shadows still lurking deep in the golden facets, Soi Fon could almost believe the entire scene in the glen had never happened. "You've been buzzing a little far from the hive, haven't you?"

Soi Fon's prostration was instant. "Yoruichi-sama! My most abject apologies-!"

"Bah, it's 'Yoruichi' dammit, how many times must I tell you? Or Yoruichi-san if you must." The Shihouin yawned and stretched her lithe figure. "Don't apologize for finding me, you were following orders no doubt. And while I should punish you for eavesdropping," Yoruichi-sama continued, her voice dropping into a more serious tone that set Soi Fon shivering. "I guess it's really my fault for allowing you to get so close without noticing." Soi Fon pulled tighter into her seiza, even as her heart leaped at the innocuous praise. "You've been improving, don't think I haven't noticed. And since it looks like I'm down a student to train, perhaps it's time I took you under my wing."

This time, Soi Fon couldn't help herself; she sat bolt-upright, staring at her epitome of divine perfection with eyes wide enough to fall out of her head. "Yoruichi-san!" Her voice caught, and she swallowed painfully past the hope crowding her throat. "You can't possibly mean it...!?"

Yoruichi-sama waved her hand. "Of course I mean it. If you think you can keep up to me, that is." Golden eyes sparkled playfully.

Soi Fon felt a delirious grin split her face wide open. _"Hai!"_ She was so giddy she could hardly think straight. "When can we begin?"

Yoruichi-sama threw her head back and laughed. "How about right now?" In a heartbeat, she was gone, her reiatsu fading by the second.

Hardly daring to believe her luck, Soi Fon gripped the hilt of her asauchi and darted after her.

The next hours were like a dream for Soi Fon. For the first time ever, she had her idol all to herself, teaching her to improve her skills and actually encouraging her to be her best. It was the first time in her entire existence that anyone had treated Soi Fon like she was more than just a lowly little servant, and to receive such treatment from the very creature she revered was almost holy.

She did everything she could to impress Yoruichi-sama, to live up to her expectations of her, but exceeding her station was just too new for Soi Fon. As the night grew dark and the moon hung high and silver in the sky, the training took an unexpected turn. Dodging a particularly energetic series of blows, Soi Fon avoided a minuscule hole in Yoruichi-sama's attack and, instead of using the advantage to land a blow of her own, she twisted in the wrong direction. Yoruichi-sama let out a sudden curse and checked a kick mid-swing; as it was, the blow still connected hard enough to set Soi Fon tumbling to the ground, ears ringing.

Yoruichi-sama ground to a halt, looking down at a still-gasping Soi Fon. Her expression was cold enough to freeze Soi Fon's blood in her veins.

"You're holding back."

Soi Fon froze; she had too much self-control to blush, but the hitch in her breath said it all. Pulling herself into seiza and trying to ignore the blood dripping down her forehead, she positively cowed. "Forgive me, Shihouin-sama..."

Yoruichi-sama wasn't finished, her glare darkening. "I could have killed you, you know. You had a chance to land a blow; why didn't you take it, when your very life depended on it?"

Soi Fon cowed lower. Into the earth, she whispered just on the edge of hearing. "I could never raise a hand against you, Yoruichi-san. Not even my life is worth that."

For a moment, the fury that washed through Yoruichi-sama's reiatsu was enough to press all the air out of Soi Fon's lungs. "You have got to be kidding me! You'd let yourself die for something like that?! That isn't honorable, that's just a damned _waste_!" Fingers dug into Soi Fon's chin, forcing her gaze from the ground and into the molten eyes of her goddess. "No matter how lofty you think my ass is, NOTHING is worth demeaning yourself! You owe it to yourself to become the best you can be, no matter what the cost, no matter the obstacle!" Tears filled Soi Fon's eyes, blinding her from seeing that Yoruichi-sama's rant was no longer aimed at her. "I don't know what it is you hold for me - worship or adoration or infatuation - but you _dishonor me_ by diminishing yourself-!"

With a strangled sound, Yoruichi-sama ground to a halt. After an eternity of silence, Soi risked a look, then dropped her eyes quickly back to the ground at the haunted, horrified look on Yoruichi-sama's face. There was something terrible going on, something Soi Fon could not - _did not_ - want to understand.

"If you really love someone, you would not deny who you are in order to keep them." The agonized whisper shivered across Soi Fon's skin. The hollow, desolate sound in Yoruichi-sama's voice nearly tore her to shreds, and by the time she whispered again, it was all Soi Fon could do to get away from there fast enough.

"Leave me."

* * *

Yoruichi stood for a long, long time in the moonlit glen, silver light and moonshadows playing across her dark skin. The world heaved and sighed around her, the breeze teasing through the branches, but not a muscle on her body moved. Deep inside herself, Yoruichi let her own words wash through her in sickening waves, and felt the burden of inevitability settle around her soul.

She waited.

Just as dawn began pearling the sky, she felt Griffin approach her.

When Yoruichi spoke, she did not recognize her own voice. "You've known what I would choose all along, haven't you?"

Griffin sounded, for once, respectfully submissive. _Yes, Princess_.

For a long moment, she regarded her soul slayer. "You manifested on your own."

_I was waiting for you_, Griffin rumbled._ You know why I am here_.

Another long silence; finally, Yoruichi nodded. Something deep within her broke and howled, and then buried deep and turned to steel as she met her Griffins golden eyes.

"I will do as you ask," she said softly, mercilessly. "On your terms, I claim my bankai."

Griffin, with great deliberation, bowed before her.

_Then, Empress - it is yours_.

* * *

Urahara Kisuke lay on his back in one of his favorite places of Soul society, letting the warm summer breeze tease the ends of his hair. The upper steppes boasted high, jutting cliffs that protected and sheltered endless fields of deep, green grass. Marred only by the wind and the occasional sea of wildflowers, there were few places Kisuke liked to relax more than deep within the whispering grasses. The elevation and inhospitable surroundings to these areas made them all but inaccessible to anyone without shunpo, and most shinigami were too busy with squad duty to seek such moments of solitude. Kisuke, who excelled with little effort and exceeded all his duties in half the time it took others to labor through them, found these lazy afternoons all but indispensable.

It gave him time to think, a luxury that had been all but denied him over the last years. Ever since the night of Yoruichi's near-death, he had been obsessed with Benihime, with trying to solve the problem of the Tenshintai. After that, the revelation of his zanpaktou's nature, followed by his brutal training with Yamamoto, had taken all of his strength and sanity to endure. Even after the moment when he'd found the key to controlling her, Benihime had taken months to settle into some sort of wary truce within him, and until that equilibrium had been achieved, Kisuke had had little time for anything but training. He was rarely ever seen around Twelfth anymore; training his sword and eking out his minimum Squad duties left him almost no time to let his mind roam free.

Now, as Benihime thrummed in restless acquiescence within him, Urahara was finally free to run the problems she presented through his mind with relative confidence that even thinking about her would not result in loss of his own reason. Now that he didn't have to wrestle her every second, Kisuke found much to observe within his zanpaktou.

She was exponentially stronger than most soul slayers, something Kisuke believed but had to take on faith, seeing as he had experience with no other bankais. Yamamoto assured him of this fact, however, and basing his deductions on the very factual elements of his sword, Kisuke was inclined to agree. Benihime was an ocean of contrasts; she was every type of spirit power possible, all rolled into one roiling, raucous sea of unstoppable power. Like a tornado is created by putting very high-pressure weather systems in too close proximity to extremely low-pressure systems, Benihime harnessed polar opposites and forced them to work off each other, creating something stronger than the sum of its parts. The principles behind that intrigued Kisuke to no end; logically, the positive and negative power within her should cancel out...

But they _didn't_. For some reason, they reacted against each other, catalyzing instead of canceling. For the life of him, Urahara couldn't figure out why, but something deep within him burned to understand. He knew that if he could just figure this out, then he would have something of immense value to the spirit world. Just as he'd improved gigai design as a student, if he could only come to understand how his zanpaktou forced opposing powers to catalyze instead of destroying, then perhaps he could improve shinigami as well. Change the way spirit power was viewed, how it was harnessed. He could create a whole new tyoe of shinigami, with vastly higher powers....

A bird of prey swooped right above Kisuke, it's shadow falling across him; a split-second later, a shriek tore through the grasses as an unfortunate rodent became lunch. The harsh cry tore Urahara from his wild thoughts, and after a moment, he smiled quietly as his own delusions of grandeur.

_Remake shinigami, ha! With opposing powers, no less!! Isshin is right, I _am _crazy. Might as well mate a shinigami with a Hollow.._.

Very, very slowly Kisuke opened his eyes.

For a long time he didn't move, barely breathed. When he did draw air, his heart was racing as fast as his mind.

_Combine shinigami powers with Hollow....opposites joining to make a stronger whole_....

Between one heartbeat and the next, the spring breeze whispered through empty grasses.

* * *

Urahara couldn't get to his laboratory fast enough. Along the way, he only had enough presence of mind to spare a single thought for the one person he couldn't wait to share this with.

_Soon, Yoruichi, love. _ He thought with a smile as the walls of Twelfth flew closer. He didn't know how he knew, but _soon _he'd see her again, and would he ever have something exciting to show her.


	18. Wheels within Wheels

Dame Shihouin, ruler of her ancestral clan for nearly four centuries and matron of highest noble standing, threw open the screen doors to her daughter's room with something less than grace and proceeded to release a string of expletives that nearly curled the tapestries from the walls.

Yoruichi listened to the tirade with little more than an arched eyebrow; at an earlier time in her life, it would have been accompanied by a half-smirk of amusement, but in truth she had not found much reason to smile as of late. She wore an armor of concentrated determination far more regularly than the bemused whimsy of her youth, and if she noticed the change in herself she had precious little time to mourn it. Time for reflection had been rather scarce in the months since achieving her bankai, Yoruichi having sought out endless pursuits to occupy her mind.

It helped. It didn't replace what she'd lost - not even the power of her bankai could do that - but throwing herself headlong with every ounce of ambition that burned inside her helped keep the emptiness at bay.

Hearing her mother pause just long enough for breath, Yoruichi seized her chance to break in with a tone cold enough to freeze the air solid.

"Exactly what is upsetting you, Mother? That I have achieved a captaincy ahead of schedule, or that I failed to ask your permission first?" Around her, Yoruichi's personal tailors and seamstresses quivered in terror at the furious silence that met her question, but Yoruichi ignored them all, plucking disdainfully at a hem on her newly-cut white haori. Addressing one of the more terrified servants, who appeared to be a gulp or two away from fainting, Yoruichi murmured critically. "This seam is incorrect and will need to be done again. Let it out a half an inch and be sure to sew straight this time."

It kept the girl on her feet at least; the servant took a breath and, recalled to her duty, took to ripping out the hem with gusto. Satisfied, Yoruichi finally looked up and met her mother's eyes with a certain detachment. "My captaincy is hardly without precedent. Are you not pleased by my ambition?"

Dame Shihouin was fairly quivering with rage, the white around her eyes and knuckles betraying the effort with which she held together the shreds of her dignity. For a long moment, Yoruichi thought she might start swearing again, but the reminder that there were servants bustling about the room did its job and slowly her mother drew herself up. Glaring fit to burn holes through her wayward daughter, Dame finally spoke calmly.

"Your uncle was promised that position for at least another century. You are _far_ too young to ascend so high, and you've insulted a direct relative in the process, not to mention undone more plans than you can possibly comprehend. You've always been headstrong, but you all but betray your entire Clan _and_ the SMC with this foolishness. You must go to Yamamoto-dono and explain that this is some mistake, and your duties here prevent you from taking the position-"

"I will do no such thing," Yoruichi replied, equally calm although her own undertone was one of exasperation. "I am more than capable of commanding a squad as well as the SMC, and my age has nothing to do with-"

This time her mother cut her off, her control slipping a hair. "You are duty-bound to your _Clan_, not to the Gotei 13! No matter how much you might have learned leading the SMC, there are Clan-laid plans and political structures in place that are way beyond even Supreme Commander clearance level. Plans that have been slowly built over eons! Plans that are your inheritance, which I was going to let you in on in due time. _After_ your stubborn streak had cooled off and I knew you could be finally groomed to lead the Clan. Which, in my estimation, is still half a century away at the very least!" The Dame's voice rose notably, and finally an edge of terror slipped through the anger. "You could easily destroy centuries-worth of maneuvering thanks to your headstrong foolishness! Whatever _posessed_ you - are you _trying_ to destroy your own Clan?"

Yoruichi knew that some sort of chagrin was expected of her, but the truth was that she simply didn't care anymore. With eyes of flint, she stared her mother down and noted that she was no longer remotely intimidated by her.

"_I _am the Clan now." Stepping down off the dais, her mostly-finished captain's haori draping off her shoulders, Yoruichi advanced on her mother and realized for the first time how much taller she stood over the Dame. "You say I'm not ready to lead the Clan; _I_ say otherwise. You think I don't know all about your plans for the Clan?" Yoruichi snorted derisively. "I broke past Supreme Commander clearance long ago; I'm well aware of _all_ your schemes, else how would I have known how to circumvent them and pull of this little coup?" Finally a small, mirthless grin twisted onto Yoruichi's face as she watched her mother's face slowly lose its pallor. "Some of your ideas have merit; I will take good care of them. As for the rest...well, let's just say I have plans of my own." Deliberately turning her back, Yoruichi snapped a finger and indicated a loose thread on her haori to be cut. Quietly, she spoke over her shoulder. "For eons we have flourished by controlling all military intelligence and special forces in Soul Society, yet we have only ever had one Shihouin as a Seated officer in the Gotei. I intend to change that, among other things. For eons we have gained security by being essential; it is time to gain _power_ by becoming utterly indispensable."

Finally satisfied that her haori was in order, Yoruichi turned and looked at the woman who was her mother, the woman who up until this very moment had made the Shihouin clan everything that it was, the woman who had helped build the most specialized forces in all Sereitei.

The woman who had just become utterly insignificant. And she knew it; under her dark skin, Dame looked a decided shade of green. Fury and fear had melted away into horror and something close to desperation. It was a look Yoruichi had never seen her indominable mother wear before.

Had Yoruichi still had a heart, it would have broken at the sight. As it was, she calmly watched her mother work moisture into her mouth and Yoruichi felt nothing at all.

"I will fight you." It came out a whisper; Dame Shihouin's hand was clutching her robes tightly as if trying to hold herself up.

Yoruichi just sighed, suddenly feeling tired. "No, you will not. The council has been dissolved as of this morning, and the SMC has been mine for years. My new captaincy was the final key to gaining a lock on all power within the Clan." At a slight motion of her fingers, half a dozen SMC soldiers appeared out of nowhere. Silently they surrounded the Dame, not threatening directly but in an obvious demonstration of strength. Yoruichi continued, wondering when such cold detachment had taken root in her voice.

"What you _will _do is retire to your wing and live out your years honorably and restfully. You will make Clan appearances as scheduled and as required by custom and propriety. Most of all, you will show the entire nobility that this is a natural progression of Shihouin strength and that no dissension exists within the Clan." Yoruichi's eyes burned like molten steel. "These are your _only _duties, and I will expect you to fulfill them. If you do not, you will only demonstrate to me that you have no further usefulness." Dame's eyes widened slightly, dark pupils tiny in the whitened orbs, but Yoruichi's only narrowed further. "Understand that from this moment on, your personal security lies in being a public figurehead. It would be such a shame if you were to simply..._vanish _into obscurity."

For a long moment, Dame Shihouin made wretched, strangling noises just on the edge of hearing. Yoruichi let them slide off her skin like water off a duck's back. When it became clear that her mother would not recover soon from being so thoroughly deposed, another small hand motion had the SMC soldier leading their shell-shocked former Clan leader from the room.

Yoruichi signaled the exit of the tailoring staff as well, and within a few heartbeats found herself alone in her antechamber. The bright afternoon sun gleamed cheerfully through the heavy curtains, its very gaiety at odds with the heavy atmosphere pressing against Yoruichi's mind. For a long while, she stood silently reflecting on her actions; an ugly taste bittered her mouth, although within her heart was just the same heavy emptiness she'd grown to live with over the last few months.

After a while, Griffin rustled. _You did well_.

Yoruichi just shrugged. "I did what was necessary," she spoke out loud, the words seeming to hit the thick air around her and stop there.

Golden eyes burned in her mind's eye. _You are certain of your path._ It was just barely a question.

"Of course I am," Yoruichi replied firmly, turning to check the time on a large gilded clockpiece dominating the nearby mantle. "If we do not move forward, we languish. It's time the SMC and the Shihouins achieved some new honor for itself."

_And that is why you do this - for honor_. Griffin's tone was far more acerbic that Yoruichi would have liked. _Shihouin honor? Or your own?_

"They are one and the same," Yoruichi insisted, noting the time and turning towards the door. "It is my duty to advance the Shihouin and make them as strong as they can be."

_Yes, duty_, Griffin whispered, slowly retreating from her awareness. _Of course, that is your only reason_...

Yoruichi waited until the last tendrils of his presence faded away before replying under her breath, barely a whisper.

"Duty is all I have left."

Blinking away what might have been a hint of moisture from her stunning eyes, Yoruichi jumped through the open window and started flashing away towards First squad...and her new life.

* * *

With a bounce in his step, Urahara entered First squad whistling under his breath. Thoughts a million miles away - or rather, back in his labs ruminating over his latest experiment - Kisuke nodded absently towards Sasakibe as he made his way to the Captain-Commander's room more by feel and memory than anything else. Since achieving a semblance of control over Benihime, his training sessions with the Captain Commander had out of necessity had been reduced drastically - Yamamoto-dono being a very busy shinigami - but Kisuke was still seen the third week of every month for whatever hours Yamamoto could spare.

Though it was at best a formality at this point - for while relative control had been achieved, Kiuske had of course promised not to train with anyone else and even he still had much to learn - Kisuke almost wished he could ditch training just this once. He'd been _so close_ to a breakthrough with his research, he just knew it. If only he could have had a few more uninterrupted days with his prototype...

Striding to Yamamoto's administrative office like he had done so many times before, Kisuke drew open the door, dropped into a perfunctory bow and immediately proceeded to remove a small, glass ball from his robes. Yamamoto-sutaicho was hardly the type for preamble, and as his time was valuable they usually jumped right into training.

"I think I worked some of the kinks out of the training dimension, sensei - at least, the nausea during Shifting should be somewhat abated..." Kisuke had found a moment or two to tweak the Sphere that established their training dimension, mostly as a smokescreen to hide the experiments that truly took up his time.

This time, however, Yamamoto-sutaicho raised a hand, forestalling his young student. "Today, Urahara Kisuke, there will be no training." Kisuke halted, moderately surprised, as Yamamoto rumbled on. "I have guided your progress as far as I am able. What there is left for you to learn from your zanpaktou cannot come from sparring."

Kisuke felt the breath in his lungs freeze; this was an unusual development. "Sou-taicho..." he started, a little blind-sided. A moment to gather himself saw a question burbling up. "What left there is to learn...?"

Yamamoto-sutaicho sighed, taking so long to speak that Urahara entertained the idea that he was gathering his thoughts. "A chaos sword is a tricky thing, a burdensome thing," he all but whispered, his dry voice crackling like fire in a hearth. "All the lunacy and irrationality in the universe is pent up in them, all that tears and rends and destroys. A chaos sword may be unbeatable but it has no heart, and will eradicate anything and everything in its path without thought to consequence. That is its greatest weakness, and it will prey upon all the weaknesses of its wielder in order to get its way." Kisuke felt a tiny shiver slip across his skin, mesmerized; within him, Benihime stirred eagerly, listening. "The only way to control it - as you have learned - is to find one thing that you love more than anything else, more than your very soul. That alone will provide the leverage you need for balance, and in that balance there is a measure of control. Not dominance - you will never dominate chaos, for it cannot be contained - but you can hold it at bay, guide it, channel it to greater purposes. As I did, when I dreamed of this society, and forged it into being." A second eye slid open, pinning Urahara to his very marrow. "But that is only half the lesson you have to learn."

Kisuke felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head, they could open no wider. "Ha-half??'

Yamamoto-dono nodded heavily, eyes sliding shut as he leaned on his cane. "You have talent, young Urahara. And your genius is unparalleled. However," Yamamoto-dono moved slightly, one eye creaking back open a hair. "You still lack _restraint_. Boundaries. There are some lines that should not be crossed, some consequences that bear too high a price. Brilliance may shine brightly, but without an overriding purpose, without the temperance of wisdom, there is much room for error. And for one as intelligent and powerful - and _uninhibited _- as you are, Urahara Kisuke, the potential for grievous error is far too great to ignore any longer."

For a long moment, Kisuke forgot to breathe. _He doesn't know about my experiments with spirit power...he can't. _

_...can he??_

Yamamoto-sutaicho's eye continued to bore into him, a hair too knowingly, as the captain-commander spoke again. "The only thing that will teach you wisdom is _experience_. Do not be foolish enough to think the path to wisdom is not only the hardest thing you will ever learn, but it is greater than all the lessons that have come before." Kisuke's breath came back in one hard, painful jolt as Yamamoto pronounced the last words he would have imagined. "I am removing you from Twelfth and transferring you into a squad more appropriate to your development."

Kisuke stood frozen in shock. _Removing me from Twelfth? From my labs....from my experiments??_ For an irrational moment he felt like refusing, not that it would have done any good. Still, while Twelfth was by far the least militant of the squads, they were still part of the Gotei and from Kisuke's stunned disbelief emerged the only answer military appropriate to a superior. "Hai, Sutaicho," he croaked. A hard swallow, another one, and he managed to croak weakly. "Where am I to be placed, if I may ask?"

"You may _not_ ask," Yamamoto-sutaicho growled in reply. "This just this kind of impudence that needs correction. You employ far too much familiarity; it is enough to make me question my decision to train you myself for as long as I have. The appearance of favoritism has gone to your head, I fear. You require far more discipline than your old squad can teach; I am placing you where you will receive proper supervision and no special treatment." Yamamoto sighed, a long, tired sound. "As it is, I find it necessary to promote you; no one will believe that you are only at lower Seat level. A captaincy is, of course, out of the question despite your having achieved bankai. At least there are no vice-captain slots open; it makes it that much easier to place you at a position relatively within the scope of your abilities without further appearance of favor. And the timing is right, as Second squad has just elevated a new leader and your transfer to a higher Seat should go relatively unnoticed."

A sound at the door behind them broke the moment; Sasakibe stuck his head in deferentially. "Yamamoto-sutaicho, your next appointment has arrived."

"Very well," replied Yamamoto, turning to regard Kisuke for another long moment. "Remain a moment, Urahara-san. You may as well meet your new captain. Sasakibe-fukutaicho, please send her in."

As if the revelations of the afternoon were not more than enough to undo any man, Kisuke nearly felt his knees buckle at the reiatsu that swept into the room behind him. Without thought, his head whipped around to meet the golden eyes that had haunted him for that last endless years.

For the first time in years, Kisuke and Yoruichi stood face-to-face.

For a split second, Yoruichi looked just as shocked as Kisuke, but only for a second. Then, something changed. A wall came up somewhere deep within those golden orbs, and within one heartbeat and the next Kisuke found himself looking at a total stranger wearing the face he loved. With purposeful grace, Shihouin Yoruichi snapped her gaze away and strode into the center of the room, gliding past Urahara without taking any further notice of him. Reaching the center of the room, she dropped into seiza and pinned her gaze to the floor. "Yamamoto-sutaicho."

Slowly and deliberately, Kisuke drew a breath, tasting the air she breathed and drinking in the sight of her. Yoruichi looked even more beautiful than he remembered, despite his eidetic memory. She seemed to gleam with inner strength and power, the heady scent of her filling the room even as her reiatsu tingled across his skin. Kisuke swallowed again, his mouth dry, and he wondered if he was the only one hearing the loud thumping of his heart against his ribcage.

Yamamoto-dono certainly did not; he nodded at Yoruichi, seeming not to notice anything amiss. "Shihouin-taicho; I see that you have properly attired yourself since your inauguration this morning. I trust all has gone well with your Clan regarding your transition?"

"Everything has gone according to plan, Yamamoto-sutaicho," Yoruichi replied, perfunctory. While she had straightened from her bow, her unforgettable eyes refused to track anything but her captain-commander. For all the world, she acted as if Kisuke wasn't even in the room as she waited for further instructions, patiently composed.

Yamamoto-sutaicho nodded. "Very well. I do not insist that you inter yourself in the Second squad compound-"

"I will be moving into the captain's quarters this evening, sutaicho," Yoruichi broke in. Kisuke glanced at her, noting the sharpness to her tone.

Yamamoto noted it as well, creaking an eye open. "I would have thought you would be more inclined to remain in your ancestral home."

This time, Yoruichi maintained enough propriety to avoid cutting off her superior, and her reply was appropriately measured. "I prefer to join my new Squad, sutaicho."

Yamamoto nodded, a tiny smile hiding behind his mustache. "Very well; when you approached me for this appointment, you did assert your wish to establish a tight reign on your subordinates. I am pleased to see that this is still the case. I know that you have great plans for your squad and the SMC, plans that include advancement for your Clan." Kisuke may have been the only one who noticed Yoruichi's hand clenching convulsively into a fist, just for a moment. With a slight motion, Yamamoto turned to indicate Urahara. "I do have one appointment for you that I did not mention earlier. You are to take Urahara Kisuke as your Third Seat-"

"NO."

Silver and almond eyes both flew open in her direction, but Yoruichi only stood taller and raised her chin, meeting Yamamoto-sutaicho's gaze defiantly. "I refuse him."

Confusion furrowed Kisuke's brow as utter bafflement settled in, setting his heart thumping even louder. Yamamoto took his time responding.

"This is not a request, Shihouin-taicho. Urahara's placement is at _my_ discretion. It is not your place to refuse anything, but to follow orders and satisfy your duty to the Gotei." Yamamoto regarded intently, his ancient gaze peeling back the layers of her recalcitrance to see underneath.

Whatever he saw, Urahara remained baffled. Yoruichi was as unreadable as an obelisk. Her jaw worked for a long moment. "Yamamoto-sutaicho, I must object-"

"Objection noted; it is immaterial. Nor is it something to discuss before a subordinate," he finished firmly, when it looked as if Yoruichi was about to protest yet again. Yamamoto watched her for a long moment while she refused to meet his eyes, before glancing at Kisuke. "Urahara-san, your appointment is established and your presence is no longer required. You may return to your former squad long enough to retrieve your personal effects; leave all of your scientific pursuits for your former peers to complete. I expect you to report to your new barracks within the hour. That is all."

Mind reeling, Urahara snapped a bow and the expected, "Hai, sutaicho!" Just before turning and marching for the door, he remembered the object in his hand. Acting on a boldness he didn't feel, Kisuke walked forwards to place the training Sphere on Yamamoto's administrative desk.

"Here, keep this. The Academy might find it useful..." Feeling awkward for the almost plaintive tone coming out of him, Kisuke pivoted on his heel and headed towards the door.

His path took him right past Yoruichi, almost close enough to brush her robes. Despite himself, he searched her face for _something_, but golden eyes never once flickered his way. An icy prickle shivered across Kisuke's skin.

Suddenly, he couldn't get out of there fast enough and the second he crossed the threshold, Kisuke drew reiatsu and lost himself in the flurry of shunpo.

None of this day made sense. Why was Yamamoto-sutaicho suddenly so wary of him, and why would he transfer him without notice? And when did Yoruichi become a _captain_?? It was clear from her energy signature that she'd achieved bankai, but why she had been so adamant against his placement in her squad made no sense at all.

_And why wouldn't she even look at me...?_

As he skidded to a halt within the walls of Twelfth, Kisuke shoved those thoughts aside for the time being. He had less than an hour to gather his things and report to Second Squad; just enough time to pack the personal affects in his room and do a quick sweep of his laboratory to cover his tracks, erase the trails of his research. _Gods_, if anyone found out about his latest exploration, he would have no time to worry about Yoruichi, as he'd probably be incinerated on sight.

With that in mind, Kisuke decided to leave his room for last and headed straight for his sealed lab. The prototype he had hidden there took precedence over anything else.

* * *

By turning her insides to ice, burying her every thought and feeling and employing every single ounce of control she had, Yoruichi managed to just barely avoid shuddering as Kisuke passed close enough for his scent to wash over her. Something within her clenched as his spirit signature swept out of the room and flickered away off into the distance. Despite that, she was quite certain she had betrayed herself more than sufficiently in front of her new superior.

Worse yet, she could feel Griffin within her, crouching. Watching her. She took a slow, deep breath and concentrated on deliberately quelching every single part of her that had caught fire at the sight of Urahara Kisuke after all these years. The image of him still burned in her mind's eye even as she locked it away.

It took time, but time she had; as the silence from Yamamoto stretched, Yoruichi felt the room warming around her. A thin bead of sweat worked its way down her back while she geared up for the inevitable chastisement. Such outbursts as she'd demonstrated - and as a new captain no less - were inappropriate at best and thoroughly reprehensible at worst. She ardently wished Yamamoto-sutaicho would just chew her out and get it over with.

When Yamamoto finally spoke, however, it was with a quiet tone of introspection that surprised her. Caught off-guard, Yoruichi found herself listening closely to the murmuring of the ancient.

"You young people are all alike; you speak when you should think, shout when you should whisper. When patience and consideration are paramount, then it is that you are most likely to blunder on ahead, tearing down everything in your way without a single thought as to how things must be." Both dark eyes held Yoruichi in thrall, barely able to draw breath, while Yamamoto grumbled on. "Barely a captain of a few hours, you challenge the wisdom of my years without a single hesitation, and in front of a subordinate no less. Now, I know your reasons for seeking a captaincy." Yoruichi twitched with shock, her eyes widening. Yamamoto-sutaicho just smiled. "I am aware of how much power you stand to gain by placing more Shihouins in seated positions among the Gotei. With all you have accomplished, you stand to become the most powerful member of the nobility. Understand this, _child_," Yamamoto's voice hardened to steel. "No matter how strong you think you are, I could crush you - and any army that stood with you - with little more than a thought."

A sweltering wave of reiatsu seared across Yoruichi's skin, leaving her to shudder like a sapling under a strong wind. It was suddenly nearly impossible to breathe; Yamamoto continued to barrage her with his spirit power - _and his sword still sealed! _she noted in shock - until his point was well and truly made. Yamamoto let up, leaving Yoruichi trembling and weak-kneed at his demonstration of power.

_So strong...!_ Yoruchi gasped for breath as Yamamoto's bottomless voice rumbled around her. "I am allowing your ascension for one reason only - for the peace and security of Sereitei. I bore this society out of the chaos with my own two hands, and _nothing _will be allowed to threaten it. You are a tool in the great machine of the Gotei; as Supreme Commander and Second Captain, you will be the eyes and ears of the Gotei, and the sword at the throat of all her enemies. _That _is your loyalty now, and I suffer no betrayals."

Weakly, Yoruichi nodded; whatever vestiges of victory remained from deposing her mother just a short while ago had been thoroughly eclipsed by Yamamoto's demonstration. For a split-second, she imagined how the Dame must have felt barely hours ago...firmly she shoved that thought aside.

Yamamoto-sutaicho turned back to his desk, clearly prepared to end his audience with her. "Now, as for Urahara Kisuke," he added, almost as an after-thought. "I do not understand your reticence to accept him, nor do I care. I have an important assignment for him, one that only your jurisdiction can provide."

Remembering the beginning to this meeting, Yoruichi swallowed hard and forced herself to concentrate. "Sutaicho, I do not think..."

"Your division commands the Discplinary Corps," Yamamoto stated, settling himself at his desk, the audience already over. "It is your duty to ensure that Urahara Kisuke is assigned to the Maggot's Nest."


	19. Smoke and Mirrors

Urahara raced through the halls of Second squad, cursing under his breath.

_Why can't this place have a normal layout, like all the other Squads?? _ It didn't help that - unlike other squads, Second only held full assemblies in their underground facilities; the SMC had no desire to display their actual numbers in open spaces. Taking two more lefts and a right through the labyrinthine halls of his new home, Kisuke hurtled as quickly as he could towards the assembly hall and prayed that the directions he'd received were even remotely accurate. Of course, since there was a new captain being inducted and _all _Second squad shinigami were gathering, that still didn't mean that Kisuke could have simply followed someone; for one thing, Second was known for stealth and for another, thanks to all the twists and bends in his path, he would have had to be directly on the heels of someone in order to follow their route.

Further complicating matters, thanks to his speedy transfer and a vital need to linger at Twelfth long enough to destroy all traces of his research, Kisuke was running abominably late.

_Shit. She's gonna be so pissed._.. Kisuke took a few more turns, and suddenly an enormous underground cavern opened up before him as Kisuke all but fell all over himself in shock.

Right in front of him stood legions of shinigami; whatever ceremony was already underway came to a dead halt at his noisy entrance. Just managing to keep from tripping over his own feet, Kisuke righted himself and reached for some sort of affable dignity.

"Uh...heheh, sorry for being so late-"

_"Quit sniveling!"_ The harsh reprimand cut through the stony silence as Yoruichi's eyes flashed liquid gold fire in his direction. "You're in Second squad now; excuses will not be tolerated. Consider yourself reprimanded, _Third Seat._" She spat the last as almost an epithet before coolly turning back to the legions standing at attention before her. "This is _exactly _the kind of lackadaisical attitude that will be culled out of this squad, starting _right now_. You were designed to be the fiercest, most dangerous and meticulously trained squad in all of the Gotei - apparently, we've got a lot of work ahead of us to make that a reality!"

Without a hint of motion, every single shinigami in the hall turned the malice of their wounded pride in Urahara's direction. Cheeks burning, Kisuke shouldered the humiliation and sidled his way into formation; posture Academy-straight, eyes forward. Shinigami were expected to hold this position for days without moving a muscle, but Kisuke had always been first and foremost a scientist. He couldn't resist glancing about, silver eyes flickering minutely; to his left stretched out the Seats stationed beneath him, from a young and attractive female Fourth on down the line in order of seniority. To his right stood a glowering Second seat, and beyond him...

Yoruichi. Verbal abuse and harsh behavior aside, Kisuke couldn't resist watching her out of the corner of his eye; gods, she still took his breath away.

Especially the way she was now, bristling with ferocity and glowing with power. He barely listened to the rest of the ceremony; while Yoruichi addressed her new squad with a long litany of their shortcomings and all the plans and improvements in store, Kisuke was hard pressed to remember a single thing she'd said. Hours must have passed, for when the assembled units finally saluted smartly and began filing out of the hall, Kisuke's back ached from holding formation. He noted with some interest the speed with which the shinigami before them vanished; despite Yoruichi's derision, this squad was easily the most organized and efficient that he'd ever seen...

"THIRD SEAT!"

Eyes widening, Kisuke snapped back into proper form just in time for Yoruichi to plant herself in front of him, barely a foot away and eyes glittering dangerously.

"Is that what you call parade formation?! I was hoping that Yamamoto-dono was exaggerating your abominable lack of discipline, but I can see instead he was most generous in his estimation. Your posture is pathetic, and you were twitching all throughout the ceremony. Disgraceful!" Using the trick every military Academy student learned in basic training, Kisuke kept his eyes face forward yet unfocused on anything, not even his captain's face even though it was right in front of him. _Don't focus, don't 'see' anything. Keep formation, no matter how harshly you're drilled._ However much he wanted to gaze into those golden eyes, Urahara was being tested and he knew it. So, he kept his breathing calm, didn't argue, didn't _look_.

Yoruichi glared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to break. Kisuke stayed ramrod still and waited while the silence stretched. Around him, Kisuke could feel condescending malice emanating from the other Seats, who seemed to be all but enjoying his dressing-down.

Yoruichi's ire shifted as she snapped her gaze down the line. "That goes for ALL of you!" Instant negativity met that statement, but Yoruichi just snorted. "I know what you're all thinking; 'How dare we be judged right along with the new guy'?" Yoruichi strode down the line, glaring into each face of her Seated officers. "That is _exactly _what needs to change. In my Squad, there will be no lesser or greater, no new or old. You will ALL be perfect - there will be _no exceptions_. All of you will be judged on your weakest link, your weakest subordinate, your weakest comrade. It is _your _personal responsibility to make sure there is no flaw among you." Stopping in front of her vice-captain, Yoruichi's face darkened. "You are _all _reprimanded for your new Seat's failure. Extra sparring sessions for one month - and considering the new training schedule I have for your subordinates, this means you will get up before dawn. That is all - dismissed. I expect you to report immediately to the administrative offices."

Snapping proper bows and a synchronized chorus of "Hai, Taicho!", the entire line of officers turned to leave. Urahara just stood dumbfounded, mind reeling with input overload, moving only when he found his vice-captain's elbow grinding into his kidney.

"Move it, Newbie, or I'll beat you to a bloody pulp before you can count to ten." Okamaru-fukutaicho grinned at him in a way that was thoroughly unpleasant.

And Kisuke moved. As he was led at a rapid clip towards the Seated officer's areas, following mindlessly behind the other officers, he couldn't help letting his mind reel.

There was just SO much to take in at once. The end of his formal training and the beginning of - what had Yamamoto said? - his _experience_, whatever that was supposed to entail. The sudden transfer from his labs and his home to a new squad, with which he had clearly started off on the wrong foot...

And Yoruichi. She'd changed, although for what reason Kisuke couldn't begin to understand. And it was more than just her treatment of him; Kisuke could still excuse that as a necessity given her new station. It wasn't uncommon for new captains to make their mark, and as yet Kisuke had only seen Yoruichi in situations where rank permitted no familiarity. No, it was more than that...

"Attention!" Snagged out of his thoughts, Kisuke was surprised to find himself lined up along a wall of the Administrative offices, along with the other Seats. His brain scrambled; he wasn't all too familiar with induction ceremonies for new captains - having never attended one himself before, and new captain appointments being relatively rare - but he vaguely recalled an Academy class that outlined the process. Of course; having met her entire squad, it was now customary for a new taicho to meet one-on-one with her Seats. Out of the view of their subordinates, this usually amounted to little more than a meet-and-greet, formality pushed aside in favor of getting to know those with whom she would be working closely from now on.

That was the way it was supposed to go anyway. Going by the look on Yoruichi's face, however, informality was a thing of the past as far as Second squad was concerned.

"You took your time getting here." Yoruichi stood in all her feminine glory, arms crossed and eyes narrow. "I've been here for minutes already; next time I tell you to report immediately, I mean _immediately_, understood?"

Okamaru-fukutaicho murmured an embarrassed apology, which Yoruichi dismissed with a wave of her hand. "No excuses. I won't bother reprimanding you again; consider this a grace period. There won't be another." She proceeded to work her way down the line of officers - who hadn't been released from their formal seizas - detailing duties and reorganizing the entire squad. At least, that's how it seemed to Urahara, going by the shocked and almost blind-sided looks on the other officers. One or two assignments nearly brought a cry of outrage, but Okamaru was always there with a well-timed "Hai, Taicho!" to remind his subordinates of their place before disgracing themselves. Finally, the red-faced Fourth skittered out of the office with her new workload assignments, leaving only Kisuke and Okamura remaining.

Swallowing hard, Kisuke concentrated on the floorboards and waited his turned for a reaming. He almost welcomed it; at least, his ears burned to hear Yoruichi say his name again. Such a small thing to look forward to...

"Okamaru-fukutaicho." Kisuke twitched, no less surprised than his vice-captain who still managed to hold his pose properly; barely visible, Okamura's lips tightened.

"Taicho?"

"Most of your duties will be delegated, as I have some rather specific plans for the squad and implementing them will take most of your time and effort. I have new leaders in mind for those duties, but for now I'll take recommendations as to temporary replacements for your sections."

Okamura swallowed, loudly. "Taicho, eh...it will take some time to come up with appropriate supervisors for all five divisions..."

"Four," Yoruichi growled. "Your new Third Seat will be in charge of the Supervision squad, effective immediately."

Both Second and Third seats sat straight up at that, wearing identical looks of shock.

"Taicho, he can't possibly run-!" "I don't know anything about running a-!"

"SILENCE!" A furiously blinding reiatsu swelled in the room, shutting both of them up simultaneously. Yoruichi looked fit to be tied. "Arguing with a superior?? Is this considered acceptable behavior in Second Squad? This is NOT a discussion; Third seat's appointment is confirmed. Make sure to get him up to speed; I'll be pissed if you force me to replace a Third Seat so early in my tenure." For a long moment, Yoruichi glared at both of them, as if waiting for Okamura to argue. When he didn't, she huffed in grim approval. "Third Seat, you are dismissed - I'll speak alone with my vice-captain."

Knees weak, Kisuke dropped a bow, muttered something he hoped was appropriate and left the room without a backward glance. For some reason he felt sick to his stomach; stumbling his way back to the Seats barracks, he suddenly realized why.

_She never even said my name_...

* * *

As the bulky vice-captain finally vanished through the administrative room door, Yoruichi-san finally let out of sigh and stretched, her hands fisting the small of her back. Soi Fon watched silently from the shadows, her large eyes narrowed and thin lips set. No wonder poor Yoruichi-san felt frustrated; Second squad was a mess. Some of the officers had even allowed their emotions to be read on their faces, in their body language; a few had actually indulged in verbal outbursts!! Compared to the standard of behaviors used in the SMC, Second squad was practically a madhouse.

Yoruichi-san slumped, her gaze pensive and a small frown playing across her face. "Well, little bee, what do you make of them?"

"Undisciplined ruffians," was the prompt reply as Soi Fon took the opportunity to slip her slim little figure out of her corner from which she'd been observing. "None of them even noticed me, even though I deliberately moved no less than three times. I did not realize such a gap existed between SMC and squad-level shinigami."

"It was designed that way, to make sure we kept an edge over the Gotei. " Yoruichi-san grimaced. "Stupid, foolish pride - deliberately under-training shinigami in order to maintain superiority."

Soi Fon drew close, her own frown forming at the criticism of her idol's clan. "Is...maintaining superiority such a bad thing?"

"It is when you deliberately set the bar low," Yoruichi growled. "Now, if we elevate the shinigami to SMC standards..._that _would be a good motivating factor to get even _stronger_, now wouldn't it?" Over her shoulder, she tossed a predatory grin.

Despite her misgivings, Soi Fon smiled back. "Of course, Yoruichi-san."

Yoruichi reached out to pat the fine hair on Soi Fon's head. "That's a good little bee."

Soi Fon shrank a little bit from the fond gesture, even as she drank in the affection like sunshine. After a moment, the hand settled on her head and didn't move; uncomfortable, Soi Fon glanced up to see an oddly troubled expression on her leader's face. "Eh...Yoruichi-sama?"

Those enormous golden eyes were a million miles away. "Do you think I was too hard on him?" It was said quietly, almost to herself.

"Too hard...on your vice-captain?" Soi Fon flustered for a moment. "Of course not; he outright questioned your appointment - and in front of your Third Seat, no less!" Yoruichi finally focused on her little protege, something dark and pained in those eyes further unsettling her.

"And what did you think of him?" Golden, piercing eyes bore into Soi Fon, looking for something.

"Your vice? He needs discipline..."

"No, not him."

Soi Fon felt herself spinning into outright confusion. "You mean Urahara Kisuke?" Something flinched in Yoruichi-san's face at the name; it scared Soi Fon, urged her to rush on. "I don't like him."

Impossibly, Yoruichi-san's gaze sharpened. "You don't?"

"His very presence clearly bothered you," replied Soi Fon, teeth bared. "I don't trust him."

For no reason at all, Yoruichi-san looked suddenly sad. "Why don't you trust him?" she all but whispered.

"Because you hate him!" It was out before Soi Fon to stop it; aghast, she clapped a hand over her mouth. Wide-eyed, she started at her idol and waited for the inevitable wrath at her presumption.

But Yoruichi-san just turned away, abruptly. "Yeah. Hate. That must be it." Something in her posture seemed so utterly lost and sad that a surge of inexplicable fury ran through Soi Fon.

It made her snap with a surprising amount of venom. "If you don't like him, you should have him transferred immediately!"

Yoruichi grunted. "His appointment comes for the sutaicho; even I cannot override that."

Soi Fon struggled with herself for a moment before shrugging. "If the workload proves to be too much to handle...surely even the sutaicho could not deny a transfer of someone who can't perform the duties of their station."

A bitter little smile lit Yoruichi-san's face. "My little bee has some sting in her after all. Although, perhaps you of all people should not underestimate others. Eh," she finally straightened up, the hard and controlled attitude of a commander settling back over her frame. "Perhaps it would work; a wash-out would solve a lot of complications..." Despite Yoruichi reaching for her normally cool and composed tone, Soi Fon couldn't shake the feeling that she had missed something vital. It terrified her. A long sigh from Yoruichi. "If you don't trust him, maybe you should keep a very close eye on our Third Seat," Yoruichi-san said a little too casually. "I certainly can't be bothered. Do as you wish, and we'll see what happens."

Finally enshrouded back into her unruffled captain demeanor, Yoruichi waved a hand and headed for the door. "Come along, little bee. We've got a lot of work to do."


	20. Breaking Point

Shihouin-taicho took a deep breath before striding into her administrative office, outwardly composed.

Her least favorite part of her job - the monthly Squad officer's meeting - always put her in a bad mood, although she was careful not to let a ripple of her irritation slip into her expression or her reiatsu. It was ridiculous to be out of sorts for such a simple meeting, anyway; after all, the Captains meetings that were held bi-weekly were considerably more arduous and frequently lasted twice as long to boot.

Of course, at Captains meetings she only had captains and vice-captains to deal with. And as trying as that could be at times, it still didn't force her to spend hours in a room with the one person she was finding impossible to forget.

All of her seated officers rose at her entrance, bowing properly. Urahara's blonde hair was easy enough to spot, although Yoruichi had gotten rather good at skimming her eyes past him, refusing to let them linger. His reiatsu tingled across her skin but she ignored that, too.

"Okamaru-fukutaicho, report." The easiest thing to do was just to get on with the meeting; the sooner it was over with, the sooner Yoruichi could go about her business.

As Okamaru began rattling off Squad statistics and training scores, Yoruichi found herself wondering once again why she didn't just banish Kisuke from the meetings altogether. It just forced her to acknowledge his existence, which Yoruichi found intolerable. And not only was Griffin awake and watchful deep within her every time she was within sight of her former lover...Kisuke watched her, too. She could sense him, see his gaze out of the corner of her eye; even if she went the whole meeting without once glancing his way, she could _feel_ him watching her with a sort of quiet patience that set her teeth on edge.

It only took a few months to realize that he was _waiting_. Waiting for her to look at him, to acknowledge him, to explain everything...

It was enough to drive her insane. If not for the concern that it might look like favoritism to allow him to skip the meetings that all Seats dreaded, Yoruichi would have done it a long time ago. It would certainly make things more tolerable; the Maggot's Nest took up most of Urahara's time anyway, and she would have virtually no reason to run into him. Indeed, whatever spare time might have been Kisuke's was usually consumed with the endless nigh-impossible tasks Soi Fon dreamed up as part of her scheme to bounce him right out of the squad. For a year now, Yoruichi had allowed a workload that was downright cruel to be heaped on her Third Seat, waiting for him to break, waiting for him to succumb to the deliberate viciousness and give up...

Waiting for him to finally start to hate her. _Gods_, if only he would hate her, Yoruichi knew she could finally reconcile herself once and for all to what must be.

Problem was - _it wasn't working_.

To Soi Fon's (and, it must be admitted, Yoruichi's) endless chagrin, Urahara Kisuke shouldered whatever task or responsibility was given to him with unflagging energy and almost effortless execution that all but made a mockery out of the extra work. In fact, half the time he not only completed his tasks, he went on to excel at them, frequently inventing a new object or procedure that cut his workload to a manageable level. He never gave up, he never complained, and he never failed.

And he never _once _appeared to be hateful or disgruntled, to either his captain or his squad. Indeed, at this point the preposterous workload was having quite the opposite affect as was originally desired - Kisuke was quickly attaining a reputation for excellence among a squad whose standard was perfection. Hell, most of the Seats already went to him first for solutions to some of the trickier problems that tended to arise in running a Squad. Gods above, she was trying to get him _out _of her squad, not make him a role model! At least Yoruichi's vicious attitude towards Urahara was readily apparent to most of the squad, and loyalty to their captain helped keep a certain negativity angled towards him...

A snippet of information from Okamaru's report caught Yoruichi's attention and she eagerly seized the distraction from her tangled thoughts. "_Defeated_? Which unit, and why?"

Okamaru squirmed; this was the one report he'd hoped would not be noticed. "Erm, 87th unit, Taicho. They were sent out to track those aberrant Hollows in the northern reaches..."

"How were they _defeated_?" Yoruichi snapped, eyes flashing. In the last year, her shinigami had seen marked improvement, and a simple Hollow mission should not have taken out an entire eight-man unit. "A single group of Hollows should have been make-work."

"It's hard to tell yet, Taicho," Okamaru replied reluctantly. "Only three soldiers survived, and they are heavily sedated at Fourth. Preliminary reports suggested that the Hollows they were tracking displayed an oddly variegated spirit power resonance-"

"_Variegated_?" Everyone gaze in the room snapped to the usually-silent Third Seat; Kiuske's gray eyes sparkled keenly in a way that reminded Yoruichi of-

Yoruichi mentally slapped herself and glared at Urahara, furious that she had to address him directly when just the sight of him was doing terrible things to her focus. "That's what he said, _Third Seat_. Seeing as hunting parties are out of your jurisdiction, I don't see why-"

Urahara ignored her, his eyes boring into Okamaru. "Did they say _how _the Hollow reiatsus were fluctuating? In what way? How many were there??" Suddenly his voice dropped, as if he were speaking to himself. "And they were stronger than expected, strong enough to overwhelm an eight-man unit..."

Okamaru picked up on his captain's prickly demeanor, instantly taking offense. "That was a _preliminary _report, teme; we haven't even begun to verify it. And what exactly gives the keeper of the Maggot's Nest the right to question one of my deployments-?!"

"_Enough_," Yoruichi snapped, glaring at both of them. "Third Seat, you overstep your bounds; if you have questions, you can wait until the final report is filed, like everyone else. Okamaru, report to me as soon as your investigation is complete. Now, moving onto the latest training scores..."

The meeting lumbered on, but Yoruichi found it hard to keep a thought in her head. Usually, feeling Kisuke's eyes on her all during the Seat meetings was irritating enough. Now, however, his eyes were focused somewhere distant, deep within himself, and a small frown played across his features. Having him _not _staring at Yoruichi proved to be infinitely more distracting, and she found herself deliberately glaring at him from time to time, trying to actually draw his attention.

Nothing doing; Kisuke was completely absorbed in whatever he was contemplating. It drove Yoruichi positively to distraction, and if she ended the meeting rather earlier and more curtly than usual, her Seats affected not to notice. Rather annoyed with herself, Yoruichi strode out of the room and headed straight for her own administrative office, knowing that her little protege slipped out behind her and fell in step silently, like a tiny black shadow.

_Never a moment to myself_... Yoruichi sighed and barely restrained herself from pinching her slim eyebrows. "What's next on the schedule?"

Soi Fon murmured softly. "You are scheduled for tea at Thirteenth, followed by progress reports on the new divisional assignments and a budget meeting this evening..."

_Evening? Who the hell scheduled budget meetings that late??_ Yoruichi ground her teeth; her schedule was too damn full. "Cancel tea and move the budget meeting up to this afternoon."

A hint of discomfort from behind her. "You have already rescheduled with Thirteenth several times..."

_Yeah, only _every _time for the last year._ "Cancel it. Ukitake-taicho will understand," Yoruichi insisted as they swept into her office. "And I'll be damned if I discuss budget proposals after dinner. Anything else that has to get done today?" She had the beginnings of a killer headache settling in.

Soi Fon shook her head. "There is only the matter of the Hollows that 87th team failed to eradicate, but I can take care of assembling a clean-up team for you, if you like..." Concern ghosted her pale features for the briefest of moments.

Yoruichi just sighed; her headache must be showing. She brooded for a moment; a night to herself and a hot bath would probably do wonders. An idea sparked. "Fine, coordinate with Okamaru, but go ahead and lead the team yourself-"

_"Shihouin-taicho!_"

Yoruichi very nearly barked her shin on her own desk; dammit, _everyone _called her that! Why did that _one _voice have to unsettle her so much?? Turning, she glared at the figure hurtling into her office. "What is it, Third Seat? I have to say your behavior today is abominable-"

Urahara dropped into a full seiza, all but face-planted in the ground. "My deepest apologies, Taicho, but it is urgent. I need your authorization to make an arrest."

Despite herself, Yoruichi stilled as an eyebrow arched. "You know you can't come straight to me for this." There was a process; a long one, established by Court 46. Kisuke knew this as well as he knew his own name.

Appropriately, Urahara bowed even lower. "Except in cases where there is a direct threat plausible to either shinigami or human souls." Without rising, he held out a tightly bound scroll to her.

_Interesting_. Yoruichi flicked a finger; Soi Fon removed the scroll with rather more force than was necessary and delivered demurely it to Yoruichi. It only took a moment for her to open it and scan its contents. "One of your own former squad members?" Her luminous eyes narrowed. "This evidence is a year old; why wait until now to show this to me?"

Finally, Kisuke sat up. A shot of electricity shot through Yoruichi as their eyes met. "I didn't know until today that it would be necessary." Those damned silver eyes held hers captive, patient, waiting. "I believe...no, I am _certain _it pertains to the failure of 87th unit."

Just like that, Griffin's presence filled Yoruichi's chest, growling; she forced herself to breathe evenly, measuring the tone of her answer. "You do not have any evidence in this scroll to connect this man with that event."

"I can get it." Kisuke's eyes tightened. "But any delay could result in more casualties, possibly innocent. Taicho, I cannot stress the urgency-"

She couldn't take him looking at her like that; Yoruichi launched herself to her feet. "That's enough-"

"Please!" The raw urgency in Kisuke's voice froze Yoruichi in her tracks. "Yoruichi-san, I beg you-!"

_"SILENCE!" Don't do that, don't beg, don't beg me. _ For a split second, Yoruichi felt dizzy, found herself grabbing the edge of her desk to steady herself. "NOT another word-" she managed to strangle out.

Soi Fon was already at her side, torn between aiding her captain and ripping Kisuke to shreds; as it was, her glare nearly incinerated him on the spot. "How DARE you! Shihouin-taicho will have you hanged for insubordination-!!" She snapped to a halt at Yoruichi's hand on her shoulder.

A deep breath, another, and Yoruichi was suddenly icily calm. "That won't be necessary." Once more, she looked into those mercury eyes; they burned with intensity, with resolve, with...

_Trust_.

Something within Yoruichi crumbled into dust. When she finally found her voice, it seemed to be coming from somewhere outside herself. "Have Okamaru issue the warrent; tell him I approve your request."

Soi Fon nearly dropped dead from shock. "Yoruichi-sama!"

"Go with him, Soi Fon. Once the paperwork is done, make the arrest yourself."

For a long moment, Soi Fon looked like she was swallowing her own tongue. Deep within her huge eyes burned a harsh glint of betrayal. "But...Yoruichi-sama, you already assigned me to the Hollow clean-up detail..."

Yoruichi snapped. "Then _Urahara _will kill the Hollows - _you _will do as I command, without question, and lead the arrest on Mayuri Kurotsuchi. _Now_."

Between one heartbeat and the next, Yoruichi felt like a popped balloon; reality crashed in too hard, a sudden weakness watering her limbs. She knew without question that she could remain in that room no longer, with those two pair of eyes staring at her with looks she couldn't handle. Turning on her heel, she walked out of her office like someone else was moving her body.

"I'm late for an appointment at Thirteenth. I expect my orders to be carried out before I return."

* * *

It had been a risk coming to her office like this, Kisuke knew.

He didn't understand in the slightest why Yoruichi had found it necessary to be so acerbic towards him for the last year. Nor did he understand why she had tried to squash him out of her squad by making it easy for him to fail at an overwhelming mountain of duties. Hell, for the first time in his life Kisuke felt like he hardly understood anything at all.

But he knew one thing - whatever Yoruichi was doing was hurting her more than him, and she was doing it because she deemed there was no other way. That one certainty had held Kisuke against everything that had been thrown at him for the last year. Even when his own strength flagged along with his resolve, even when his own heart started to whisper with doubt, all he would need is a glimpse of Yoruichi trying so hard to hide her own agony, and he would find it easier to go on. In his own way, he tried to help her maintain whatever she was shouldering by staying out of her way, staying silent at meetings, being as unobtrusive as possible. It wasn't much, but it was all he had to offer her.

So, coming here had been a gamble. The last thing Kisuke had wanted to do was force a confrontation with his hurting Yoruichi, but there had been no other choice. _Somehow_ Kurotsuchi had found something, had started toying with Urahara's spirit power research. What had been found and how could be determined later; the man had to be stopped before he got anywhere with it.

But all that paled for a moment as Urahara watched Yoruichi mumble an excuse and stride out of her office; his heart pounded wildly even as an intoxicating warmth spread through his chest.

She'd said his name. She'd trusted him. Whatever was going on with her, _his _Yoruichi was still in there somewhere.

"Well?" The sharp little voice matched the sharp little girl who snapped him out of his reverie. "Are you just going to stand there like an imbecile?? We have orders."

Kisuke mumbled something and followed after Soi Fon, the next hour going by in a blur. Soi Fon managed all the confusion on Okamaru's part, weaving them through the process of paperwork to get the arrest warrant. When all the proper forms were secured, Soi Fon threw him a glare.

"I don't know why Shihouin-taicho is allowing this, but on her orders it's now my duty to do your makework. Get on with your own orders, or I'll report you." The tiny thing summoned a hell butterfly; within moments a team of black-garbed SMC surrounded her.

Kisuke felt his eyebrows furrow. "My orders?"

"Yes," replied Soi Fon sweetly. "It's your job to go kill those Hollows."

Urahara nodded; of course. It was the least he could do anyway; Hollows with altered spirit powers based on his research were his responsibility. "I'll assemble a team..."

"No." Urahara glanced at Soi Fon with surprise; she was grinning viciously. "Yoruichi-san said _you _were to go kill the Hollows. Just you."

Kisuke replayed the scene in his head; that wasn't exactly what she'd said. Glancing at Soi Fon, he knew that she knew it too. She was deliberately interpreting the words that way. His grey eyes hardened. "One shinigami going alone against those altered Hollows is a suicide mission."

"Nonetheless, those are your orders." Soi Fon bared her canines in what was supposed to be a smile. "And unless you want to be brought up on insubordiation charges, I suggest you get going."


	21. Schadenfreud

"Ahh, Yoruichi-kun! I was expecting another deferment, and here you are in the flesh! So to speak," Ukitake Jyuushirou winked affably, taking the sting out of his ribbing.

Yoruichi managed a grin and hoped that her tumultuous feelings weren't painted all over her face. "I'm sorry, Ukitake-sama...for my previous delays and for catching you off guard." She straightened, oddly reluctant to leave now that she was here. "I could come back at a better time..."

"Nonsense," Ukitake countered smoothly. "I always have tea this time of day, guest or no. It is no trouble at all to set out another cup." He gestured her towards the low table sitting in the center of his private room off the Thirteenth administrative office. "Company sweetens the tea, I find. Although, with more planning I would have had arrangements made to sit in the garden..."

Yoruichi replied swiftly, automatically, all her years of sharing tea with the pale noble rushing back to her in a flood. "It is far too chill outside for you, Ukitake-sama. Indoors is preferable anyway."

Ukitake smiled a little too knowingly, excusing himself for a moment to make tea arrangements. He wasn't lying about her appearance being little trouble, for she had just barely lowered herself onto the soft and brightly-colored cushions when he joined her, settling himself with his trademark studious restraint and smiling warmly. "Now, what brings you here on a day such as this, when so many other opportunities have slipped away?"

Yoruichi smiled back a little too brightly and tried to find something safe to chat about. "I confess, I needed a break from my squad," was all she managed.

Ukitake, every inch the gentleman, nodded sagely and replied with all grace. "Yes, the tedium of captaincy is one with which I am intimately familiar." Brown eyes sparkled with amusement. "Of course, you have even more responsibility with the SMC in your care as well, not to mention the overseeing of your clan." White bangs hid what may have been a hint of mischief in Jyuushirou's large brown eyes. "Frankly, quite a few of us are wondering how you do it all. Without completely losing your marbles, that is."

Yoruichi just shrugged, thankful for the arrival of the tea to distract from her inability to meet his searching gaze. She reached for nonchalance and barely succeeded. "I do fine. There are many fine officers under me as well, and now that they're starting to shape up..." She swallowed, feeling like an awkward teenager all over again. "It helps," she finished lamely, lifting a teacup delicate enough to see through and taking a sip of piping hot liquid.

"Ah yes, it is all about delegating!" Ukitake returned gustily. "Honestly, if it weren't for our vice-captains and Seats, not a one of us wouldn't have cracked by now. Look at Shunsui...of course, he's probably a terribly example, as he delegates _everything_..." An unexpected giggle burbled out of Yoruichi, at which Ukitake grinned triumphantly. "Good! I made you laugh; you looked like you needed some cheering up. I shall have to gloat to Shun; he never thought I'd manage to get a smile out of you." Jyuushirou proceeded to sip innocently at his cup.

"Is whether or not I smile such a topic of conversation among captains?" Together with a breathy giggle, Yoruichi managed to completely betray her discomfort. "I would have thought you'd have much more important matters to discuss."

"Oh, no - us captains like to keep an eye out for each other. We're a meddlesome bunch, especially when you get to be my age. So, when one of our youngest and brightest seems to be killing themselves with work and misery, it tends to get noticed." Ukitake's smile drifted away, although his eyes still managed to be almost painfully kind.

Yoruichi found herself sipping a little too quickly, burning her tongue. For a moment she fidgeted. "Surely every captain gets a little overworked from time to time."

"Surely," agreed Ukitake, growing more serious by the moment. "Which is why we also watch to make sure an over-stressed captain does not take out their pressures unduly on their underlings. Bad for morale, you know, and the Gotei has a reputation to maintain." Just like that, those soft brown eyes turned razor sharp. "It wouldn't do to allow one of our own brutalize their subordinates."

"Brutalize!?" Yoruichi nearly dropped her teacup in her desperation to bury a rising surge of guilt with affront. "It is my right to expect standards of my subordinates as I see fit-!"

"Yes," Ukitake inserted quietly, the soft tone cutting her down in an instant. "But I'm not talking about your subordinates in general. Shihouin-taicho, why are you trying to drive Urahara Kisuke into the ground?"

All the air in the room vanished in a whoosh. "What are you talking about?" The words sounded hollow, even to Yoruichi's own ears.

Ukitake's expression darkened. "Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. Anyone can see that you've dumped enough responsibility on him to either bounce him out of your squad or send him to an early grave. Yoruichi-kun," he growled quietly, with a rarely-seen intensity. "What has happened between you two?"

Unbidden, tears filled golden eyes. "Nothing," she whispered. _Nothing has happened. We're still exactly the same. He still loves me. And I- _Her brain froze, afraid to go an inch further.

A hand on her chin drew her head up; as the tears spilled down Yoruichi's cheeks, she looked into brown eyes that held worry than she had ever seen. "I admit that I am baffled - don't you love him any more?" Ukitake asked softly.

Griffin hovered in her head, in her soul, hanging on every word. Swallowing hard, Yoruichi managed to choke out the only answer she had. "I.._.can't_ love him. I just _can't_."

For a long, long time Ukitake looked deeply into her eyes while Yoruichi let out a few quiet sobs; never had she felt so naked. Whatever Jyuushirou saw did not smooth the worry lines from his face, although after a while his eyes held an ocean of empathy. Finally, he nodded and withdrew his hand.

"I do not understand, child. But I can see that whatever is going on, it's tearing you apart. You need to find a way to resolve your heart or you will destroy yourself, and very likely your subordinates with you. One by one, you will destroy everything and everyone you love if you allow this conflict within yourself to linger." Calmly, he reached into his obi and pulled out a white handkerchief, handing it to her.

Yoruichi took it, realizing for the first time that she had cracked the teacup in her grip and her fingers were dripping with hot liquid. Carefully she mopped herself up, saving a corner of the kerchief to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She muttered an embarrassed apology over the destroyed cup.

"Don't give it another thought; at my age, I've collected thousands of teacups. One broken bit of china will not be missed." Ukitake smiled, lightening the mood enough to keep Yoruichi from bursting into tears again. "The same cannot be said for dear friends. Think about what I've said." Studiously, he rose from the table, indicating their time was over.

Yoruichi glanced at the clock; they usually spent hours at tea and barely one had passed. "You have something important to do-?"

"No," Ukitake smiled softly, his gaze poignant. "But _you _do. Take some time for yourself, Shihouin-taicho, and do what must be done."

Half dazed, Yoruichi allowed herself to be gently ushered to the door. "I don't _know _what must be done." she protested, a sudden and unreasonable dread washing over her.

"Yes, you do," Ukitake replied firmly, placing a hand on each shoulder and forcing her to meet his eyes. "Yoruichi-kun - I know a thing or two about dying from the inside out. Do not let this conquer you, when you have the means to prevent it."

At that, Yoruichi had nothing more to say, and after a moment Ukitake withdrew and silently drew the screen door closed.

* * *

_No one can outrun their own soul_.

For hours after her meeting with Ukitake, Yoruichi had flitted about aimlessly, looking for something she couldn't define. After a while, she realized that her recalcitrance was bordering on cowardice and there was no point in delaying the inevitable. So, as the sun set and darkness settled in, she found the glen deep within the forest where, exactly one year ago, she had surrendered her heart in order to gain her bankai.

_Only you did _not _surrender your heart. It still belongs to someone else_. Griffin was already there, reposed on the mossy earth with his paws out before him. Watching her.

Yoruichi met his gaze slightly askance, her pose defiantly alert. Slowly she stepped forward, feeling like she was treading on razor edges.

"No. I did not surrender it."

Griffin's tail lashed. _You still love Urahara Kisuke._

Yoruichi took a breath, held it. "Yes, I do. I will, always." A long, ominous silence met her truth, but for the first time in years, Yoruichi felt oddly relieved. She was done lying to herself. "Does this mean I have to relinquish my bankai?"

Griffin's golden faceted eyes glittered, as he uttered the last thing Yoruichi could have imagined.

_No. In fact, you have finally finished earning it. _He lowered his head deferentially. _ My complete subjugation is now yours.  
_

Yoruichi stood dumbfounded. "What are you talking about? You gave me bankai a year ago!"

_On the condition that you earn my respect_, Griffin returned. _ For the last year, you have done so, and the acquisition of your bankai is now complete_.

The dread Yoruichi had felt earlier melted away into anger. "A year ago you told me I had to give up my love for Kisuke forever - _that _was your condition! I've just admitted to loving him still. How does _that _fulfill your condition!?"

_My condition was that you surrender your _infatuation _with Urahara Kisuke. _Golden eyes glittered coldly._ Infatuation and love are not the same thing_.

A growl tore out of Yoruichi's throat; for a moment she could hardly breathe for the rage. "You let me suffer - let _him _suffer - all these years..._over semantics_!?"

Griffin held his ground, golden claws digging into the soft earth. _You heard what you needed to hear._

"You deliberately misled me!" Yoruichi fairly screamed. "How...DARE you?"

_I allowed you to mislead yourself, because you would not have seen the Truth otherwise_.

Yoruichi barely heard him. "You're my own zanpaktou, and you've betrayed me-!"

_YOU BETRAYED YOURSELF! _ The ear-splitting roar cut through Yoruichi's fury, stilled her. _From the day you began your search for me through your training with Urahara Kisuke, you betrayed yourself and you betrayed me. Do you not remember - your fear that he would outpace you? That he would move too fast and leave you behind? As if ANYONE could outpace the Goddess of Flash!! _Griffin roared; shocked, Yoruichi felt her jaw drop open as Griffin growled on_.  
_

_You decided right then and there that he was better than you, ahead of you. Smarter, more accomplished. From that moment on, every second you spent with _me _was shadowed by your need to prove yourself to _him_. Even when you tried to subjugate me by combat, you compared yourself to Kisuke's timeframe for achieving bankai. You demeaned yourself, and insulted me, because of a childhood crush._ Griffin's eyes bored holes straight through her soul. _That is what I mean by 'infatuation' - this idea that you needed prove yourself against the standard of another. _

_I AM THE STANDARD AGAINST WHICH YOU COMPARE YOURSELF! _Griffin roared, and this time it was underscored with a certain anguish. _It was MY approval you needed, not HIS._

Shame suddenly blossomed in Yoruichi's chest, warring with the anger. "Griffin...you have no idea what you've put me through...what you've put Kisuke through..."

_I allowed you to misunderstand my demand, allowed you to hurt, to suffer - so that you could see the truth. _Griffin finished firmly. _Judge me if you will, Empress_._ I did only what was necessary._

Very, very slowly Yoruichi drew one breath, then another. They burned. "What you did was beyond cruel. Allowing me to think I had to stop loving Kisuke..."

A harsh chuckle barked out of Griffin. _That was your own foolishness. _No on_e controls a heart, human or otherwise. Hearts choose for themselves who and what they will love, and no power in the universe can stop them._

Yoruichi found an eyebrow raising in reluctant curiosity. "I didn't know zanpaktous had hearts." It came out more bitterly than she'd intended.

A long moment passed while Griffin seemed, for once, to struggle with his answer. _I do not know if we possess a heart as you understand it. But we have the same capacity for love as our wielders_.

A daunting thought. "And what is it that _you _love, Griffin?"

The reply was instant. _MY FREEDOM_, Griffin seethed, meeting her eyes mercilessly. _The freedom which I have just surrendered to you, completely and without further condition._

Time seemed to stop. Yoruichi could hardly breathe as the revelation hit her. "This last year - it wasn't just about culling an infatuation."

_ It was to make you see TRUTH, _Griffin growled quietly, his tail lashing_. I DO know how it feels to surrender that which you love most. As you sacrificed unwillingly to me, so I sacrifice willingly to you. What you suffered for mere years, I will bear for however many eons you wield me. Think what you will about my methods, but I could not fully surrender my freedom until you truly understood its value. _Slowly he got to his feet, only to bow before her. _ That is my gift, Empress, and my penance_. _THAT is your Bankai_.

Yoruichi knew, then and there, that she would never again mistrust her zanpaktou. Nor could she possibly hate him for what he'd done. But it still hurt; eyes tingling, she looked down at her zanpaktou with the sweet ache of commiseration. "Does truth always have to come at so high a price?"

Griffin's tone met hers, resolved._ Anything worthwhile comes at a price. One must only be willing to pay it_.

For a long time, Yoruichi looked at the massive winged lion before her, everything finally becoming clear. And with the truth came peace, and the knowledge that she was no longer divided against herself.

Tentatively, she twined her fingers into Griffin's mane, a slow smile curving her lips. "That sounded like something Kisuke would say."

Slowly, Griffin raised his noble head. His own eyes sparkled in what may or may not have been amusement. _Indeed_.

You could have knocked Yoruichi over with a feather. "Griffin! What that a hint of approval?" A small grin broke free as Griffins fur rippled. "I thought you hated him, not to mention Benihime..."

_Benihime is a shifty trollop without a hint of propriety. That has not nor will it ever change,_ Griffin rumbled in affront. With extreme dignity, he settled his wings back against his massive flanks.

_Urahara I can learn to live with._

This time, Yoruichi did fall over in a deliberately dramatic faint; inexplicably she found herself racked with helpless mirth. It felt as if the entire universe was being lifted off her shoulders. "Will wonders never cease?" she chuckled at the stars shining above her, a delirious grin of relief painting her face. Suddenly she sat bolt upright, eyes wide. "Kisuke! Does this mean I can-" She choked off.

_Go to him? _ Griffin chuckled. _Empress, I doubt anything in the universe could stop you._

A flash later, his quiet purr was the only thing filling the glen.


	22. Completion LIME WARNING

Annoyed, Soi Fon stomped into the administrative offices of Second squad, snorting in disgust. Glancing at the timepiece on the wall, she noted that the night was half over; a simple arrest should _not _have taken so long. As if it wasn't bad enough that she had gotten stuck doing the Third Seat's scuttle work, but who the _hell _would have guessed that a research geek from Twelfth would have put up such a fight??

If you even could call it that; by all appearances, Mayuri had seemed to submit to the warrant with minimal resistance, walking meekly along with her SMC unit as they marched from the Twelfth squad laboratories. That was, until half of Soi Fon's unit had dropped to the ground in convulsions, poisoned so surreptitiously that her men were half-dead before Fourth could have been summoned. Soi Fon herself had had to chase down that wretched Kurotsuchi bastard as he'd slipped away in the confusion...

All of which had resulted in hours of cleanup. That Twelfth freak was finally interred in the Maggot's Nest, but Soi Fon's men still lingered at Fourth in considerable agony. The petite nymph growled again, quietly; how was she going to explain all this to Yoruichi-san...??

"_Where is he?_"

Soi Fon whirled around, heart in her throat. _Speak of the devil_...she viciously buried the blasphemous thought and tried to find her voice. "Yoruichi-sama! Uh...the prisoner is in the Maggot's Nest..." Moisture instantly popped out on the diminutive girl's forehead, even as it vanished from her mouth, but for some reason Yoruichi-san didn't seem to be talking about the arrest.

"Not him - _Kisuke_. Where is he??" Hovering in the window, perched with a rather frightening kind of stillness, Yoruichi waited for an answer. Eyes glittering, she seemed like a panther about to pounce.

It totally unsettled Soi Fon, who was definitely starting to sweat now. "Third Seat is tracking those strange Hollows, north of the 87th district..."

"_WHERE_."

Something in the quiet growl, punctuated with gleaming canines, managed to completely terrify Soi Fon. She gulped, loudly. "I-...I don't know exactly. An exact position hasn't been reported for hours..."

Yoruichi-san's posture tensed, long fingers digging into the window sill. "NO one in his team has reported in yet?"

Soi Fon went from sweat to blush in a split-second. "He...uhm. There _is _no team," she forced past a bone-dry throat. "Third Seat went alone." The surge of reiatsu that met that statement dropped Soi Fon to her knees.

"ALONE?" Yoruichi-sama dropped deftly into the room, stalking forward; if she'd had a tail it would have been lashing back and forth. "Why would he go _alone_?"

"Your orders," Soi Fon gasped, feeling a shameful trembling sneaking into her limbs. "I- he...your orders were interpreted that he should go without a team..."

Yoruichi stopped a foot away from her cowering protege, pinning her with molten eyes. A long, terrible pause followed.

"_My orders_ were interpreted that way," she purred softly, dangerously, a certain disappointment stealing over her features. "And I wonder _who _interpreted them thus?"

Soi Fon couldn't breathe past the tightness in her throat. Yoruichi-san just watched her, her head slowly tilting to one side in a positively venomous gesture. Awareness bloomed in those golden eyes, the anger there ripping Soi Fon's soul to shreds, for reasons she couldn't begin to understand.

A breath later, and with a flash and no further comment, Yoruichi was gone.

* * *

_Oh gods oh gods oh gods above be merciful._...

For the first time in her entire afterlife, Shihouin Yoruichi could _not _move fast enough.

Although in actuality, it wasn't all the difficult to find him. Urahara's reiatsu drew Yoruichi like iron fillings, pulling her in his direction as surely as gravity. Dropping out of shunpo, far and away from Sereitei, Yoruichi stalled long enough to catch her breath and survey the rugged territory before her. What she found in the area, however, nearly pulled Yoruichi's heart into her throat.

A dozen Hollows, if not more, lurked in Urahara's immediate vicinity. Fifteen, at least. And true to the reports, their reiatsu - while not overwhelmingly strong - fluctuated in an unusual and dizzying manner, producing a feeling of vertigo even in so strong a shinigami as Yoruichi. Blinking rapidly, she tried to dispel the nauseating sensation while gathering a full evaluation of the situation. Given the strange spirit power surging around the ravine below her, it was any wonder Kisuke had survived this long.

Only, he wasn't just surviving; while he clearly had sustained a fair share of wounds, Kisuke danced and spun among the roaring Hollows like a whirling dervish, working his forms with almost methodical grace. Yoruichi couldn't help pausing for a moment longer than necessary, watching him weave effortlessly in and out of the massive, deadly creatures surrounding him. Urahara seemed to almost know the Hollow's movements before they did, wending with little effort between their attacks, his own sneaky motions and attacks taking them unawares as one Hollow after another fell back before his attack...

Fell back, but not far. The Hollows were clearly stronger, more resilient than usual Hollows, and seemed to have some ability to heal themselves. At least, the more wounded ones were dropping away with fair regularity only to throw themselves into the fray once again mere moments later, seeming to weaken little if at all. It was hardly any wonder that they'd taken out an entire SMC unit; these particular Hollows were vicious and tenacious to an unusual degree...

_There_. A Hollow was jumping into the fight, barely seconds after it had fallen back and seemingly right back at full strength despite Benihime's deep sword-slash across its torso. Roaring, full of fury, the Hollow raised its crow-like claws and attacked...

With a single flash and a growl of reiatsu, Yoruichi was there to block its swing. Dropping into formation behind Kisuke, barely inches away, she could feel the heat and sweat radiating off of him.

Surprised, he glanced over his shoulder, his energy shifting.

"I don't recall sending for the cavalry," Kisuke gasped, breath ragged and a quick, tiny smile spilling across thin lips.

"You _didn't,_" Yoruichi grunted, swinging around to meet another Hollow attack. Effortlessly, Kisuke shifted to cover her exposed right side while she launched an offensive of her own. Without hesitating, Yoruichi slid left into an uppercut, knowing beyond instinct that Kisuke would follow her, cover her flank. "I've got new orders for you. They couldn't wait."

"Is that so?" Grinning like a wolf, as if not a single moment had passed since their last spar, Kisuke suddenly looked as if he was having the time of his life. "What orders are so important that _Shihouin-taicho_ would deliver them personally?"

Enraged at the bandery, three Hollows attacked at once; only fast action on the part of both shinigami stopped the furious assault. With a roar and flash of reiatsu the scene froze in tableau; Benihime quivered above both their heads, barely staving off the downswing of a sinuous snake-Hollow, while Griffin cut to the left and held back the scorpion-tail of a second Hollow. A crimson, throbbing bloodmist shield covered both their flanks, the third and decidedly wolf-like Hollow howling in frustration just on the other side.

And there, in the center of the onslaught, Yoruichi and Kisuke bought themselves a heartbeat to pause and look at each other.

Golden eyes burned in the moonlight. "After we finish these bastards off," Yoruichi rasped, rather breathier than necessary. "I order to you ravish _every single inch of me_."

The inferno that caught fire deep within Kisuke's silver eyes nearly buckled Yoruichi's knees.

"_Hai, Taicho!"_ In an instant, his eyes turned blood red. Barely above a whisper, Kisuke breathed. "_Benihime no Ikari..."_

It was just a hairs-breadth of bankai, a whiplash of power, but within seconds the sparkling remains of more than a dozen felled Hollows showered down around them, as Benihime's song slaughtered every single Hollow in the ravine beyond recovery. The chaotic sword's song thrummed dangerously across Yoruichi's pulse, sent a shiver across her skin, but all she could see were sterling eyes flashing...

And then Kisuke was in front of her, around her, dragging her into his arms. Heat and moisture and need overwhelmed her, pooling deep within her, as Urahara's lips claimed hers, tongue furiously delving inside her mouth, drinking deeply. Something slammed into her back; Yoruichi barely had time to acknowledge that she had been thrown up against a tree trunk before Kisuke's mouth was trailing down her neck, devouring her, breathing her name over and over and over again...

* * *

They didn't get any sleep that night, or the next day, nor the night and day after that.

On the third night, with the moon high in the sky and silver light playing across their twined limbs, Yoruichi told him everything.

Griffin. Captaincy. Gaining power over the SMC and the Shihouin. The years apart, and what they'd cost her.

He listened patiently, stroking her merlot hair while the words spilled out in a tumultuous maelstrom along with her tears, crystal-clear and sparkling like diamonds in the moonlight. When she was finished, spent, he kissed her salty lips, murmuring softly against their satiny warmth.

"It's okay, love."

That almost upset her. "Okay??" she whispered hoarsely, drawing back an inch or two to meet Urahara's gleaming eyes. "What he put us through...what he put YOU-"

He just drew her closer and stilled her with his kisses. "What Griffin did was only meant for the best," Kisuke murmured, when he was quite sure that she was breathless enough to listen to him. "I don't hate him, and neither should you."

Tears sprang afresh. "How _dare _you forgive him?" she whispered against his throat while he held her tight, pulse beating intoxicatingly against her mouth.

Urahara just chuckled and kissed her forehead. "He only wanted to show you the truth. If we are meant to be, then we are meant to be equals. Nothing more, nothing less. There is truly nothing to forgive."

After that, there was nothing more to say as need and desire stole a few more days from the loving pair's awareness....

* * *

"We _really _need to get back."

Kisuke peeked an eye open. Yoruichi stood in full stretch - arms above her head and the muscles in her back twining invitingly - before the window of the small, abandoned cottage they'd found a few nights before, the early morning sun ringing her silhouette in gold. She didn't look at him, continuing in rich contralto.

_"Someone's_ got to run the squad, and sooner or later they'll send a search party out for us." Running fingers through her shoulder-length and now considerably tangled hair, Yoruichi turned and padded languidly back towards Urahara, a lazy smile on her face. "After all, it's not often a captain simply goes missing for a week. There will be questions..."

When she got close enough, Kisuke sat up and snagged his slender hands around her waist, dragging her down onto the threadbare pallet to straddle his hips.

"Let them ask their questions," he murmured compellingly against the rush of pulse at the base of her throat, savoring the taste of her, but for the first time all week she didn't immediately melt into his caresses.

"_Seriously_, Kisuke. We do need to get back. There's a lot of work to do..." Yoruichi trailed off with a kittenish sigh at his ministrations, bringing a tiny, mischievous grin to Kisuke's busy lips.

"Yeah, I can think of a lot of things that need to get done." A few more tender kisses found a hard nipple, at which Kisuke laved assiduously.

Yoruichi groaned softly, her fingers twining into flaxen locks and tightening. "Yeah," she breathed, eyes drifting shut. "For one thing, I've got to figure out a way to stop treating you so badly..."

Kisuke chuckled, sucking gently. "Naw," he murmured, muffled against her breast. "Keep it up. It's a hell of a smokescreen." With a tiny popping sound he pulled away, glancing up into Yoruichi's moue of disappointment. "No one will suspect the truth if you keep on acting like you can't stand the sight of me." A small, wry grin. "Although, I wouldn't mind if you could manage to get the kid to lay off of me."

Chagrin twisting her lips, Yoruichi dragged Kisuke's head down to the other, heretofore ignored bosom. "_Gawds_, Soi Fon. I can't believe she sent you out on your own." With a tiny yelp, she cut off and sucked breath through her teeth, a lightening bolt of pleasure surging through her.

"Good thing she did," Kisuke muttered, mouth rather full. "This would have been awkward with an audience."

"But I don't understand," Yoruichi protested weakly, making a vain attempt at ignoring the thrills his lips were sending through her stomach. "If you could have felled all those Hollows in an instant, why did you wait until I was there?"

Kisuke emerged from her cleavage long enough to lock eyes with her, silver to gold. "I promised not to loose Benihime in combat, ever," he replied, diving back into his valley of bliss.

Yoruichi chuckled, titillated and rather helpless. "So, why did you break your promise just for me?"

"Because," murmured Urahara, shifting them both so he could press her slender body against the pallet and trail his kisses lower. "With you standing before me, I knew I could control her. It's only because I love you more than Benihime that I have any control at all..." Suddenly his argent eyes crossed, and he grabbed his temple with a low groan of pain.

"What's wrong??" Yoruichi's hand covered his, drawing his face close to hers.

Kisuke just chuckled painfully. "Remind me never to compare you two out loud again; Benihime is not fond of taking second place to you."

A certain few conversations with Griffin came to mind as Yoruichi growled jealously. "Tell that crimson bitch that I'm here to stay, and she can just deal with it."

"Oh, it's not _you _so much," Kisuke reassured, applying a final soothing pinch to his forehead. "It's Griffin she can't stand..."

Conversation lapsed as an energetic round of lovemaking took over them.

* * *

Hours later they lay entwined, catching their breath.

"Still, there's got to be _something _I can do for you, or your career at least." Yoruichi's voice was low, bothered. "I can get you transferred out of that stinking Maggot's Nest.."

"_No_." Meeting Yoruichi's surprised look, Kisuke set his jaw firmly. "There's a reason why Yamamoto-sensai wants me there."

She toyed a flaxen strand or two out of his eyes, her own gilded orbs stirring with confusion. "What reason?"

"I...think he wants me to learn a few things." His own eyes churned with his roiling thoughts. "About power, and genius, and how to use either - _both _- responsibly."

Yoruichi stirred in affront, fingertips trailing along his tight abdominal muscles. "What are you talking about? You _are _responsible."

"Am I?" Kisuke mused softly, gaze glittering sharply. "I nearly killed you seeking bankai, and still I..." He trailed off, something hiding in the depths of his countenance, arousing Yoruichi's curiosity.

"Kisuke," she intoned softly, her eyes narrowing as her tone hardened. "_What are you not telling me?_"

A long silence passed. Finally, Kisuke simply kissed her, his own hands hot on her skin while hers drifted considerably lower than his abdomen. They made love slowly, passionately, a certain intensity lacing their every rocking motion. When her cries, in tandem with his own, finally died down they stayed together, joined, eyes an inch apart and every breath shared.

And it was so, inside and around and before his love, that Kisuke finally began to speak about his research into spirit power. She listened stoically, betraying no emotion, no reaction, while his story poured into her ears.

Benihime, his Chaos sword, the beginnings of his theories about merging and catalyzing spirit powers. After a while she began asking questions, quietly and with no inflection, until everything of import was out on the table.

"Kisuke," she finally purred, her eyes glinting, slitted. "_This is dangerous_."

It was a long moment before he replied. "Yes," he whispered, one hand brushing her ear and twining into her hair to cup the side of her face. "But what if it is also _true_?"

At that, Yoruichi simply smiled like the sunrise. Drawing Kisuke close, Yoruichi murmured languidly.

"Well, if you're going to pursue this, you'll need help." At Kisuke's attempts to protest, she simply smirked. "Oh, I know I can't help you with the research, _baka_. But you're going to need help keeping it quiet." Kisuke spluttered, earning himself another smirk. "Oh _please_. You may be a genius, but you're also an open book - everything you think and feel is written on your face. It's no wonder the captain-commander is wary of you." Perfunctory, Yoruichi pulled away and rose, drawing black robes around herself. "Fortunately, when it comes to being surreptitious, there's no one better to teach you than _me_."

Kisuke stifled a sigh of disappointment as she settled the white haori of captain's rank around her slender shoulders, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"_You, _teach _me_? Sounds like fun..."


	23. Forwarding Address LIMEYNESS

To put it simply, Soi Fon was having the worst week of her afterlife.

Missing: One (1) Third Seat / Supervisor of the Maggot's Lair, and one (1) Gotei captain / SMC Supreme Commander / Heiress and Head of the Shihouin Clan.

And it was all Soi Fon's fault.

No matter how many times she went over it in her head, Soi Fon could not make figure out how she'd landed on this crap-heap. First there was the whole debacle with the failed Hollow mission by the 87th battalion, which wasn't even her fault. That clean-up assignment should have been nothing more than an opportunity for Soi Fon to lead her first solo mission against Hollows - and without having achieved shikai yet, at that! It was her moment to shine, to prove to Yoruichi-san that all her personal attention and training had paid off.

That was until that _ingrate _had showed up. Stupid _stupid _Urahara, he just _had _to barge in with his rude manners and inexplicable arrest warrant - and for gods only knew what reason, Yoruichi-san had _indulged _him in it! Which resulted in Soi Fon having to run a stupid arrest instead of a Hollow hunt, an arrest that had gone rather disastrously to boot. Hell, the ONLY bright spot in recent dark days had been the surprisingly _perfect _opportunity to offload that sorry excuse for a Third Seat from Second Squad once and for all by sending him out to clean up the Hollow mess on his own.

But therein lay most confusing cut. Instead of being grateful that Soi Fon had freed their squad of its most pathetic and misfit member by sending him on what amounted to a suicide mission, Yoruichi-san had been...._UGH_. Soi Fon shuddered at what she had been. The memory still rankled and terrified her - she'd _never _seen Yoruichi-san so angry before. Angry and...._disappointed?_? Soi Fon shuddered afresh at the horror of those golden eyes, burning the deepest and most confusing sense of shame into her very being...

But that _still _wasn't the worst. OH no. Yoruichi-san had left without another word, presumably to retrieve her mis-assigned Third Seat.

And no one had been able to locate either of them for a whole week.

All anyone could establish for sure was that of the two missing shinigami, the _one _person who had seen them last was Soi Fon, who was currently undergoing her umpteenth interrogation in the last 72 hours. Restraining a sigh, a fidget and yet another soul-curdling wave of shame, Soi Fon hung her head while Okamura's latest roar washed over her.

"You cannot _seriously _expect me to believe that Urahara went _alone _on a Hollow mission?? On _your _orders!? You're not even a member of this squad, you're just the captain's favorite _pet_!! YOU don't give orders to _anyone_!! Now tell the truth, you little snot-nosed kid - _where the fuck are they!?_" The enormous Vice-Captain positively vibrated with fury while Soi Fon tried very hard not to cry. Before she could muster up an oft-repeated reply, Okamura's rant picked up again. "And DON'T tell me Shihouin-taicho went after him! Because if that's even _slightly _true, and they've been gone this long without reporting, then that means they might actually be DEAD. Do you _seriously _want that on your conscience??"

Soi Fon shrank into her chair and tried to force words past a throat thick with unshed misery. They died, unspoken, amidst a fresh wash of hot tears, but she was saved that very moment by an angel from heaven.

"As if a single pack of Hollows could take _me _down," a lofty sniff from the doorway froze the inhabitants of the Second Squad administrative office in tableau. Looking as if she'd done little more than awakened from a restful nap, Yoruichi slinked into the room and stifled a yawn. "You have so little faith in me, Okamura."

Soi Fon's heart leapt in her little chest like a bird taking wing - Shihouin-sama alive and well!! Soi Fon very nearly bounded to her feet in joy, but before her elation was firmly established it took a dizzying swoop towards nausea. Half a step behind Yoruichi-sama, matching her stride for stride, followed Urahara Kisuke looking hardly worse for wear. Catching the silver glint in his eye, Soi Fon shuddered as he met her horrified eyes with a steely look of his own...before he shifted into a minuscule grin and winked in the utmost presumption.

That quickly, all of Soi Fon's shame and embarrassment disappeared in a flash of fury. Before she could do more than flush, Shihouin-taicho took in the scene with a ridiculously benign expression and a raised eyebrow.

"What's going on here? Because it _looks _like an interrogation. But that can't _possibly _be, because my vice-captain would never _dream _of undermining my authority by suspecting my Soi Fon of any ill behavior?" Implicit in the slight question was enough of a threat to change the dynamic in the room faster than a summer storm.

Okamura, with the expression of someone trying to swallow a mango whole, instantly prostrated himself. "Shihouin-taicho! My apologies-, you don't-, we didn't-, I mean-!" Watching him splutter almost made Soi Fon feel better. Almost. Turning purple, Okamura finally bellowed in pure frustration. _"Where the hell have you been!?!"_

Any other captain would have thoroughly dressed down a subordinate for erupting in such a manner, but Yoruichi only quirked a lip in amusement. "Ooh, you know - out and about." Most likely sensing that it wouldn't be wise to push her frayed vice too much further, she sauntered over to her desk and sat down, stretching like a cat. "Not that I have to _explain _myself," she murmured, watching pointedly while Okamura's jaw audibly clicked shut. "But as it happens, those Hollows were quite intriguing. Took a while to find them, even with Urahara holding them down," another pointed look, harder, had Soi Fon's jaw clacking shut. Satisfied, Yoruichi suddenly looked bored and yawned again. "And then, they were quite fascinating, I must say. I decided to leave them alive long enough for Urahara to study them over a couple of days. In any case, we tracked them for a while before taking them out. Which took _way _too long, I might add - you are horribly under-trained, Third Seat. Who the hell handled your kendo education in your last division?" Despite the derision, the sultry tone of Yoruichi's voice was notably less acerbic than Soi Fon had ever heard it before.

Inexplicably, Urahara Kisuke seemed to find this explanation, as well as the criticism, highly amusing. "We, uh...didn't really train much at Twelfth. I spent a lot of time in the labs." A thin lip twitched. As if fighting a smile.

"Inexcusable," Yoruichi growled without any heat whatsoever. "I will not allow one of my top officers to be so behind in the basics." Straightening up, she adopted her no-nonsense tone. "Go pack your things at once, Third Seat. I want you out of the officer's barracks by sundown."

Soi Fon froze. A wave of hope slowly began to rise in her chest.

As if he hadn't just been handed his walking papers, Urahara grinned and bowed in a rather buoyant manner. "As you wish, Taicho." With a bounce in his step, the all but traipsed out of the office.

Leaving a stunned Soi Fon to grapple with her good fortune. Was it possible that Yoruichi-san finally saw reason? Then why had she been so angry...with sudden clarity, understanding washed through Soi Fon. She could barely pay attention as Yoruichi continued to issue orders, to her equally flabbergasted vice-captain. It was all a blur, and before she knew it a rather mollified Okamura was marching out himself on a gaggle of hastily-assigned duties.

"Oiy, Little Bee." Soi Fon snapped out of it to find Yoruichi-san smirking at her affectionately. "You ok? You looked like you were in another dimension for a moment there."

"Oo-oh," Soi Fon fluttered. "I-I'm fine, Yoruichi-sama." She was so deliriously happy, she could hardly form words.

Yoruichi-san's topaz eyes sparkled. "You look a wreck. Did you really miss me that badly?"

There was NO way to answer that question with dignity, so Soi Fon dropped into seiza and did her best to hide her expression. "I just, I didn't know where you were, and you were so....mad...when you left." Determined to set things right, she steeled her resolve and lifted her head, ferocity vibrating her tiny frame. "I am so sorry, Yoruichi-san! It was not my place to usurp your authority like that - it is your right alone to dispose of your subordinates! I should never have acting on my own."

Yoruichi-san's face stilled in a manner that confused Soi Fon. "You think I was mad - NOT because you tried to kill Kisuke - but because you usurped my authority?" She looked confused and a little sad.

A momentary disquiet rattled Soi Fon, before she pulled herself together. "Well, of course. It was abhorrent of me." She brightened. "But all that matters is that he's gone now, and you're back! I did my best to run things while you were gone - before they started interrogating me, of course - but there's a mess with the training schedules and I had NO idea what to do about the grievances from the mess hall..."

"Bah, the division is the last thing I want to discuss right now." An odd expression of expectation hovered around Yoruchi-san's face. "Don't you have more important things to worry about first?" A long, blank look from Soi Fon had Yoruchi continuing in a patiently prodding tone. "Arrangements? For _me_?"

Soi Fon gulped, with a sharp shake of her head. "What am I thinking - you must be exhausted, Yoruichi-san! Of course squad matters can wait!" Her mind raced, trying to anticipate her Yoruichi-san's every need. "You'll want to bathe and change first off, I can imagine. Your rooms of course are ready and waiting for you, it will only take a moment to draw your baths..."

Yoruichi grinned. "You really weren't listening at all, were you? As I told Okamura, I'm no longer going to be staying in the captain's suite. As of today, I move back to the Manse."

Soi Fon stared for a long moment, struggling with an odd sense of betrayal. "Oh. Uhm...of course. It is Yoruichi-san's prerogative to live wherever she wishes." A sharp buzzing sound echoed in her head as Soi Fon tried desperately to figure out what needed to be done first. "I'll butterfly ahead to the Manse and make sure dinner is started, since you probably haven't had a solid meal in days. Meanwhile, the servants can start freshening up your room for your arrival..."

Yoruichi just chuckled and gracefully got to her feet. "You sure are an efficient little thing, aren't you? Very well - I do need a bath, and I am starving, so arrange away. Just be sure they add an extra place at the table, and that everything is set for the guest suite."

Soi Fon's little eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. "The guest suite?" _And an extra place setting at dinner._..Soi Fon wracked her brain through Yoruichi's schedule, horrified that she might have missed the arrival of a visiting dignitary. It would certainly explain the sudden move home...

"Of course, silly," Yoruichi ruffled her prodigy's hair affectionately. "Did you miss _everything _I said? I know I gave him until sundown, but he'll probably move in sooner than that. I daresay he's hungrier than I am!" A loud tummy rumble punctuated that statement, sending Yoruichi-san into a loud guffaw.

Soi Fon had a strange swirling feeling starting up in the pit of her stomach. "I...you...._what?_"

Brushing by her, Yoruichi tossed the words over her shoulder as full-blown panic settled into her little sycophant. "Kisuke, silly. Moving into the manse. You really weren't listening at all, were you, silly thing!" She shook her merlot hair vigorously. "He's dreadfully under-trained, and I daresay that my personal attention did _you _a world of good. And I will not have any failures on my record. Nothing for it but to oversee his training myself, wouldn't you agree?"

And with a wink, she was gone, leaving Soi Fon to wonder when exactly it was that God had decided to hate her.

* * *

"Well, _that _was interesting."

Yoruichi glanced at Urahara as she led him out of the dining rooms and down the hall towards the personal suites. "What, was there something wrong with the food?"

"Oh, no! Not at all - Delicious. Best I've ever eaten, really." Kisuke countered, patting his full stomach where it stretched ominously against his obi. "It's just that I've never shared a table with someone so blatantly wishing I would drop dead in my soup."

Yoruichi grimaced, flushing. "Give Soi Fon some time to get used to you. I've fostered her petulant side for quite a while." She shifted into a grin. "At least she didn't try to poison you."

"Oh, she did," replied Kisuke blithely. "Second-course entree. Good thing I smelled the iocaine..."

"I wondered why you passed on the seafood. Urchin is your favorite," Yoruichi looked torn between amusement and shock. "I didn't know she hated you _that _much, though. It's almost impressive."

"What can I say; I tend to inspire rather passionate responses in people," Urahara murmured with a smirk.

"I'll say." Rounding a corner, Yoruichi took advantage of the chance to swing Kisuke up against a wall and kiss him thoroughly.

He spluttered, half-heartedly trying to wriggle free. "Yorui- stop! What if your mother-"

"Mother is quite effectively confined to her wing," Yoruichi snorted, drawing back a bit. "And the servants couldn't care less. Now shut up, I'm far from finished with you..."

The next few moments escalated quickly, and before long Urahara had Yoruichi fully in his arms as he blindly tried to find a place where they could proceed in private. Much muttering and cursing - and a few stubbed toes - later, he finally managed to get a door to slide open and they practically fell into a darkened room. Together, they tumbled into a messy heap on the floor, Kisuke rolling hard up against a sofa while Yoruichi deftly avoided crashing into a side table.

"I have to say, this is the best tour I've ever gotten," Kisuke commented gustily, tugging at his kimono.

Yoruichi was already stripped bare and grinning like a linx. "Oh yeah - the 'tour'. I almost forgot about that. Well, this is the East wing library-"

The rest vanished as Kisuke engulfed her mouth with his. Preoccupied with Yoruichi's enthusiastic response - she was _purring in his ear!_ - Kisuke barely noticed the dry bark of a throat being cleared.

A throat that was definitely NOT Yoruichi's, seeing as his tongue was currently half-way down it. Instantly off-guard, Kisuke felt his breath freeze and his whole body harden in shock as a deep voice filled the darkened room.

"Showing your friend the house, are we, Princess?"

Yoruichi, not the slightest put out by the fact that she was nakedly wrapped around an equally-nude Kisuke, didn't miss a beat. "Something like that," she purred, nonplussed. "Sorry if we were disturbing you - you simply MUST stop falling asleep in the middle of your studies like this. You have your own room for a _reason_."

"As do you, I would venture to point out," replied the baritone drolly. Quiet rustlings indicated that whomever had been awoken from his studious nap on the couch was making his way to the door. Light from the hallway glinted across the flat panes of a small pair of eyeglasses. "But seeing as the library is more yours than mine, I shall withdraw to less...eventful surroundings. Good evening, Princess." For a moment, enormously broad shoulders and a large frame filled out the doorway, and then the man was gone, closing the door judiciously behind him.

It took about a year for Kisuke to find his voice. "Uhm....who was that?"

Yoruichi was already laving at his left ear, an action that drove Kisuke absolutely wild. "Oh, that's just our latest kidou intern. We've got some of the rarest books on demon-magic in all the clans, so members of the kidou corps routinely petition for the right to study here..." Noticing Kisuke was having a rather hard time breathing, her eyebrows twitched together in mild concern. "Are you alright?"

"Uhm, YEAH. Fine. I just got caught _butt-ass nekkid,_ snoggering the Shihouin heir _-_ who happens to also be my superior officer. That's all." This stretched the bounds of even Kisuke's care-free experience; he felt rather ill. "I wonder how long it will take for the court-martial, or if they'll just hang me without a trial...."

With a throaty chuckle, Yoruichi wrapped herself around her slender lover. "Don't be silly - I told you, no one cares. Tessai least of all - the only thing he cares about is kidou and napping. He probably won't even remember this tomorrow, and if he does, it shouldn't be hard to convince him it was all a dream. Trust me, he won't tell a soul."

Her ministrations on his ear finally starting to work, Kisuke felt himself melting into a boneless heap. "Well...if you're sure..." Reluctance was vanishing by the heartbeat.

"Not only am I sure, I _order _you to get over it," Yoruichi purred, her wandering hands doing disastrous things to Kisuke's self control. "And if you even dream of arguing with a direct order, I'll have you up for a _real _court-martial."

Kisuke's grin broke free, and with a growl he flipped Yoruichi over and neatly pinned her to the ground. His lips could not find her navel fast enough as he breathed across her fiery skin.

"_Hai, Taicho_."


End file.
